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mjpiercesblog · 8 days ago

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Prologue, Part 1

1. Liam

7 years ago

“Last question in the final stand-off between the Ewing’s and the Barneses,” the moderator states, kindly on board with our rather dated references. We’re in the pub after a day of focused listening and presenting at the 80’s TV conference at Aberystwyth University. We’re exhausted and wired and a little high from the company of so many people interested in the same thing we are. Our group of maybe ten people who have gone out tonight has divided into two teams for the pub quiz, both naming ourselves after one family in our epic Dallas standoff. We drew even and this last set of questions will decide the winner. The 50-something owner of the pub indulges our references with jokes and puns and winks in our direction. “Oh – this one is a good one, period-wise,” he jokes. “In 1996, princess Victoria of Sweden was diagnosed as anorexic. Which clothing brand then came out with a plus-size clothing range as a response?”

“H&M,” Gina says without hesitation.

“How do you know that,” I ask in wonderment.

“Now, hold on. Are you just saying that because it’s the only Swedish clothing brand you can think of,” Jim asks, because he’s the kind of know-it-all PhD student who likes to question women’s expertise. We all hate him, but unfortunately there’s always one. And it’s the conference high of sitting in stuffy rooms and drinking bad coffee all day, sustained by these tiny packets of biscuits, that makes you put up with anyone. Plus, academia is small, chances are that me and Jim will wander in and out of each other’s orbit for the rest of our careers.

“No, I’m saying that because I know it,” Gina says, baring her teeth at Jim.

“What other Swedish clothing companies are there,” he smirks.

“Let’s just go with H&M,” I say quietly, dreading that I need to take a side. Our teammates Amanda and Ollie are engrossed in other conversation at the end of the table and won’t get involved here, I’m sure. I slink down in my chair, almost hide under the table.

“Fjällräven,” Gina starts, “Stutterheim. Happy Socks. Björn Borg. Need I go on?”

“Fjällräven makes rucksacks,” Jim says defiantly, but it’s that kind of childish defiance people have who know they have lost. Him and Gina engage in a staring contest, until Jim gets up to go to the bar, asking loudly, “another round?”

Gina and I give our drink orders, then slowly turn to each other and she lets out a relieved giggle when she finds approval in my gaze. “H&M it is,” I say and write the answer down before I go to the bar to hand over our answer sheet. As I plonk myself down in my seat again, I ask: “How do you know more than one Swedish clothing company?”

“My dad is Swedish,” she admits. She is black, with light skin, so I hadn’t expected her to be half Swedish. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise me. That button nose of hers should have given it away. “And I’m only half-sure about all of them. They all may be Danish. I was gambling he doesn’t know any himself.”

I have no idea what my face does. “You were bluffing,” I ask.

“Well… yes, I guess,” she shrugs. “Or maybe no. I kind of knew from something my grandmother said, but I also wasn’t sure. And he was being a prick. And… seriously… what British person knows a different Swedish clothing company?”

Of course, the questions before this were more difficult, it may still be the wrong answer. And Jim might be a prick, but he could be an aggressive prick, or a prick who holds a grudge. And what if he ends up on a hiring committee that interviews you ten years down the line. The possibility of a drunk pub quiz night from when you were a PhD student hanging over your head makes me shudder. To miss an opportunity because of H&M. Better stay quiet. Stay neutral. Don’t offend anyone. I wish I had Gina’s confidence. I wish I could bluff, but people can immediately tell when I’m unsure. It’s really better if I don’t say anything, because it gives away any uncertainties.

I hum in agreement with Gina and then change the topic to something different. Jim returns to our table with our drinks and Gina gets up to join the other table, no doubt to escape Jim the prick, but my bland conversation probably also didn’t help. Which means that I’m stuck with him, also when the moderator announces the pub quiz winner. Even though H&M was the right answer, the others got more answers right this round, making the Ewings the winner, a fact the moderator makes a lot of jokes about. He even returns to the mic every time he comes up with a new one. Jim leaves Gina’s H&M answer without comment, congratulates the other team with a smile and tries to draw me into conversation about footie scores. He’s boring as hell, trying to impress me with his ‘masculinity’ credentials as if I care. I’m longing for a pink drink, if only to signal to Jim how little I care. Instead, my pint goes increasingly stale. I hate beer, only took one out of politeness when Gina bought the first round and then got stuck with it when Jim asked, “another one?” How do I always land myself in these situations? Too diplomatic to ask for the drink I want, too much wanting to keep the peace to tell Jim that he is the reason people hate white, straight men. I can’t even get myself to hint that I’m gay. Maybe if I proposition Jim, I can finally get rid of him. It feels hours later until I finally build up the nerve to excuse myself to the bathroom.

The pub has a round bar in its middle and the bathrooms are upstairs. When I come back, I stay on the side of the bar facing the stairs. Our tables are on the other side of the bar, so I’m out of sight of Jim the prick. I sit down on a barstool, rest my arms on the bar, then plonk my head down on them and groan.

“What’s wrong, poppet,” I hear a voice ask. From the nasal voice, I expect someone who is embracing rainbows and unicorns and uses the word ‘fabulous’ a lot. He may very well do that, but when I look up, it’s to see a very tall man. He’s taller than me, has a lean, trimmed body and muscular arms. His grey t-shirt is so tight it looks painted on, and it is visible how well defined his abs are.

“I got stuck with Straighty McStraightface over there and can’t anymore,” I whine.

“Did you tell him to be less straight,” he asks.

I laugh. As if I’d ever do that. “Can you just give me the most girlie drink you can think of?”

“What would that be,” he laughs. His laugh is wonderful. It is both, high-pitched and full-throated at the same time. “You know, gender is a construct, right?”

“I do know,” I answer. My PhD is partly in gender studies, but somehow, tonight is testing all my beliefs. “Just give me something pink, please? And please refrain from telling me pink was once a boy colour or that plenty of women don’t like pink. Let alone pink drinks.”

“What will it be,” he leans on the bar, contemplating the issue. “Vodka cranberry? A cosmopolitan? I should warn you, my job is handing out beer and small wine bottles to drunk students. My barkeeping abilities are limited.”

“Would a vodka cranberry be safe?”

“Well, poppet, you are the first one to ever order one, so we’ll see.” He winks at me and turns around to grab the vodka, pours it in a glass, then gets cranberry juice from a fridge. He leans down, which gives me a view of a beautiful, tight ass in those tight jeans that do wonders for his thighs. I bite my lip at the sight. He adds the cranberry juice to the vodka, and I take a sip.

“Wow, that’s disgusting,” I explain. “Can you give me a gin and tonic instead?”

“Sure,” he smiles. “Are you sure you want this? Because I’ll pour you drinks all night, poppet, but it’s going to get expensive if you order all the girly ones only to hate them.”

I laugh at that: “I actually know I like that one, girly or not. It’s just a shame it’s not pink.”

“I can do something about that,” he proposes. “But I’ll repeat: I’m not a bartender. Overwhelming me with more than two ingredients is putting a lot of trust in me.”

“That’s okay. But if you’re really brave, you can attempt a lemon slice.”

He smiles at me and places a lemon slice at the rim of my glass, then tells me what I owe him and turns to the girl waiting next to me. I immediately miss his attention but dig out my wallet to get the money ready. I see him move deftly along the bar as he serves other customers and collects their money. He still hasn’t come to pick up mine. I wonder if he’s forgotten about me, but I’m patiently waiting anyway.

When he comes back, he immediately jumps into our conversation again, as I hand over the money. “Listen, poppet, I’m working here until around half twelve. If you want to stick around, I’d love to go for chips with you after. Or we can have a drink somewhere else. As you can see, I’m busy now.”

I grin widely. I’m so happy he wants to spend more time with me. “I’ll wait,” I agree. He takes my money and I grab my drink and return to my group, this time taking a seat away from Jim. They leave and I tell Gina with a wink that I’m staying behind.

“No way, the hot guy,” she asks excitedly, pointing wildly (and not subtly) at the bar. Jim’s face is blank. His face doesn’t exactly scream homophobia, but he’s also not happy. Or as impressed as Gina is. Maybe he’s disapproving? Did I tell him about Luke? Shit, I don’t remember. And why do I care anyway? I met the hot bartender when I was hiding from Jim the prick, after all. And I haven’t done anything and am not planning on cheating on Luke tonight. I just want to see that smile again, hear that laugh. Be in his orbit.

The bar staff clean and lock up around me. It’s uncomfortable. I offer several times to wait outside, but the kindly manager won’t hear of it. Then the bartender strolls my way and leads me outside. “I’m Ian, by the way,” he introduces himself.

I chuckle. “I’m Liam. We rhyme.” He bursts out in that wonderful laugh again. “Imperfect as it is,” I add.

“What do you want to do now,” Ian asks.

“You’re local. And you promised me chips.”

“How do you feel about chips, slathered in cheese, on the beach,” Ian asks.

It is a still summer night, the beach isn’t far, the stars and moon shine brightly, and his face is mesmerising. “Sounds great,” I reply.

We walk in silence and get our chips, walk down to the beach, and sit down at a quiet spot. Some students are having a beach party to our right and to our left is a pier with a bar and a nightclub, the music a “thump” in the distance. There are drunk people buzzing around it.

“How do you not have drunk people wandering into the sea all the time,” I ask, observing the partiers.

“Well, there’s around one a year,” he says so matter-of-factly that I have to laugh. He makes me laugh so easily, so freely. I haven’t laughed like that in years.

“Sorry,” I remind myself, schooling my face into something more serious. “Obviously, it’s very tragic for their friends and family.”

Now he laughs. “It’s okay. It’s usually freshers who don’t understand how they react to alcohol. It’s sad because they just disappear, leaving families and friends with so many questions. But… it’s also many other things,” he trails off, his eyes twinkling in the starry night. We sit in silence. “So, Liam, what do you do?”

“Can we not do that,” I plead. “I can give you my academic credentials, you can give me yours, but… who cares?” My dad cares. Luke cares. But I don’t want Ian to. It feels like we’re outside the real world, where it doesn’t matter who we are outside of this moment. Where it doesn’t matter what we do or who we are with. “I’m happy to discuss your passions, but let’s not discuss if we are getting our degrees in it or if we made sensible choices.” I don’t want him to be another person who wonders aloud what you do with a PhD on 1980s US TV.

“Yes,” he says, sounding relieved. “That sounds great.”

“So, Ian, do you know any constellations?” We finish our chips and lie back on the sand and look at the stars, locating the big dipper and Orion’s belt. Our knowledge of constellations exhausted, we make up our own. We lie closely together, our shoulders touching, our heads so close we can whisper to each other. Conversation flows easily as we tell each other about favourite books, films, and TV series.

It feels like hours later, when he asks: “So, what do you want to forget?” Of course, he noticed. We met when I was hiding, after all.

“Myself, I guess,” I shrug, which means I feel his biceps pressed against mine. “I just find it difficult to stand up for what I believe in sometimes. I wish I could be more assertive,” I explain. The honesty feels good. It feels so easy to say, but I don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud before.

“Why do you find it difficult,” he asks.

“I don’t know. I can live with not being liked, I think. But do you know that look people give you when you openly disagree with them? Like you just humiliated them? I can’t do that.”

“Humiliate,” he asks, confused, turning on his side.

“Yes, as if you’ve personally hurt them.” My dad always looked at me that way. As if I’ve stabbed him in the heart with my disloyalty. “I know, I’m just supposed to let everybody else deal with their own feelings. I know, the patriarchy makes me feel that way. But I feel it anyway.”

“You know, poppet, everybody feels that way.” He sighs. “It takes guts to stand up to someone. It’s hard. You can train it, though.”

“I have to, don’t I?” I turn to him and hide my face in his chest. I breathe him in. He smells amazing, even this late at night, after working all night. He smells of sweat and alcohol and aftershave and… the spicy-sweet scent of himself, I guess. It’s objectively wonderful, even though it should be disgusting. And I like that he’s not humouring me, that he’s honest. A hint of challenge in his voice.

“It’s just something to practice,” he says, touching the small of my back.

“To be fair, we never would have met if I hadn’t had to hide from Jim the prick,” I smile, looking up at him. He smiles back.

“What did Jim the prick do that you had to hide from him?”

“He was being a sexist prick,” I reply.

“So, it’s Jim the sexist prick, to be exact,” he says, and I laugh.

“Well… yes. Who, very strangely, reminds me of my dad in some way. They don’t look the same, but… it’s a similar brand of putting people down. Making me feel like I’m shrinking.” Of course, I was aware of this, but I hadn’t admitted it out loud before. Maybe it’s that we haven’t exchanged our credentials, maybe it’s that we likely will only have this one night before I return to my life, but it’s easier to be honest with Ian. Here, under the stars with the sound of the waves gently crashing in the background.

“Tell me something about yourself nobody knows,” I ask Ian.

“I really like cooking,” he says. At my confused face, he adds: “You don’t know this, but everybody thinks I’ll do something different that makes more money. My family has no money, they really want me to earn. My mum is a lunch lady, and my dad does construction jobs, but his back hurts and he won’t be able to do that forever. If I made a lot of money, they could retire.”

“But you like cooking,” I say quietly, understanding how impossible it feels to disappoint parents. I can’t help myself and stroke along his cheek, looking seriously at him.

“Yes, I like cooking,” he says. He says it so quietly, almost whispers. It feels like he’s admitting something terrible to me, something he never said out loud. Like he’s trying out how the words feel in his mouth. Which is what I asked for, after all.

“What do you like about it,” I ask.

“The way different ingredients complement each other, even draw out new flavours in each other that you didn’t notice before. Or some don’t go together at all.”

“What do you like to cook?”

“You’re going to laugh at me,” he chuckles.

“It’s important. I promise I won’t laugh.” We are lying on the sand facing each other by now. We’re not touching, but we lie close together, speaking quietly. It’s as if the world around us seized to exist.

He takes a deep breath: “I like to experiment with vegan and vegetarian burgers.”

I can’t help but sputter out a surprised laugh but try to make it clear I’m not laughing at him. “Why do you think I’d laugh at you for that? That’s a pretty good thing to cook. Somewhere between high-concept kitchen and the lowly burger. Can be gourmet or the Quorn stuff.”

“I think I’m just used to all the man’s men guys from my degree and my dad’s friends who think you’re not worthy of your genitals if you don’t eat meat,” he admits.

“Well… they’re wrong. You got your genitals for free. And a tongue to taste different flavours.” I try very hard not to think about how else I could prove to him the worth of these genitals and tongue, but… no.

“I wish it was that easy,” he says, sadly.

“I know,” I try to assure him. “Dads are…” what are they? Demanding? Shit? Hard? Difficult? But you still want desperately to please them. To be recognised as their equal. And you do so many things to please them. Including choosing your boyfriend based on what they want. It’s something I rarely admit to myself. I love Luke, but I also think both of us got tired of our dads constantly criticizing our relationship choices. Of branding us sissy boys or worse. “Complicated,” I settle on.

“That they are,” he agrees. “Anyway, I like the kinds of flavour profiles you can create with a burger. How it’s not about creating a proxy of the meat version, which is what the Quorn things do, but how you can let your imagination go wild. It just needs to fit between two buns, that’s the only rule. You can go truly wild with it,” he chuckles. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but I think he’s blushing.

“That sounds amazing.”

“It is,” he says excitedly and then details a mushroom based recipe he tried the other day. I don’t understand what he’s saying at all, but he is so excited, so full of passion that it makes me feel truly privileged to hear him talk like this.

We talk until the sun comes up. There are still two panels at the conference, which I’ll skip, before I drive back home to Cardiff. Ian walks me back to my seafront hotel. We stand in front of it for hours, until the sun is fully up. Then we give up trying to separate and go for breakfast and talk more. Then we go back to the hotel where we now really, really need to separate. When he steps towards me, his face moving closer to mine, clearly for a kiss, I quickly say: “I… I have a boyfriend.” It feels like a record scratch. He moves back with a look of betrayal on his face.

“And you are only mentioning this now,” he asks, looking crestfallen.

“I… I’m sorry.” I could have just not said anything. I’m driving home soon. I’ll probably never see Ian again. I could have kept it to myself. But we’ve only been honest with each other, shared an honesty we likely never shared with anyone. That kiss would have tarnished everything. I want to explain more, say more, but I can’t come up with anything that will make him remember me as anything else than the guy he wasted a night with.

“Well then,” he stretches out a hand for me to shake and I reluctantly take it. “It was good to meet you, poppet,” he says and turns around. I watch him walk down the street until he turns a corner.

I go inside, get my stuff from my room, and then check out and get my car. I’m not sure how I manage the drive home. Considering how dangerous Welsh roads are at the best of times, it’s a suicide mission. When I get home, I’m not sure if it’s sadness about Ian or exhaustion that makes tears well up. I sleep for a few hours, then text Gina from the conference that I’m alive and Luke that I’m back.

I only met Gina this week, but it feels like I can share things with her I can’t with others. She’s seen Ian, she was there. She can confirm he’s real, that I didn’t make him up.

A few days later, I ask Luke for an open relationship, at least for when either one of us is away. Only I ever go away by myself for conferences, but he doesn’t challenge me. If I sometimes imagine his lips on mine are Ian’s, nobody knows. But I’m glad we never kissed. It stops me yearning for what never would have been anyway.

#gayromance #mm romance #romance #writers on tumblr #exes to lovers #classic academia #second chance romance #murder mystery #job interview

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andersonpress · 1 month ago

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If you have ever contemplated hurting yourself, read this.

Originally written March 1, 2019

I hated myself for a long time. Let me be clear - you can hate yourself and also be highly functioning. I functioned under the veil of uber positivity as my way of deflecting from my problems. You don't need to think about your own problems when you are too busy helping everyone with theirs. I had always felt this way, since I was a child. I knew I was special in some way, but isn't everyone? Being highly functioning with depression just means your problems are bound to catch up with you later.

2015 was my senior year in high school. The absolute worst year of my life. My school environment was soul-crushing and suffocating. I had been rejected, waitlisted, or outright ignored by all seven of the institutions I applied to. I was number 143 out of 176 students for my GPA rank. My breasts, stomach, arms, and thighs were ballooning faster than I could keep up with. Everyone around me was doing so goddamn well. I grew tired of hearing my classmates say things like, "You went through all of this for nothing." I knew how fucking stupid I was, I have eyes I can see my big ass, and I knew that I was supposed to be going to some amazing college where my dreams were going to be fulfilled like everyone else. I began every morning by telling myself, "This is the best you will get. Get used to it."

I was thoroughly convinced that I had reached my potential. If you can't do high school work, how can you do college work? I didn't have any technical skills I could make a career out of, and I had my heart set on medical school just to have that idea shot down by every single person who went to my medical professions based school. There was no way to become prettier, be smart, or learn something other than talking and eating. While my friends saw the sky as the limit, I saw my limit at my feet. Stuck. Under the concrete. No where to grow and no way out. My school environment was life sucking and suffocating; family life full of chaos; and my future was nonexistent.

I attempted to kill myself six times in 2015. All attempts with medication, sitting in my tub, the night before school. As I took random pills, I imagined my mother finding me, screaming and shaking me awake. I remember how content I felt knowing that I wouldn't open my eyes. I can finally feel as dead as I felt while I was alive. But it never fucking worked. Every attempt, I would wake the fuck up. Another realization hit me - I can't do anything right.

I went to UTSA thinking "fuck it". Let me go somewhere where no one knows how big of a failure I am so I can lie to them and have them think I'm the shit. Acting like I was the shit soon had me actually thinking I was the shit. For spurts of time, not very long. Each spurt of confidence brought new lessons, that I use now to keep myself afloat. I had to remind myself that nothing lasts forever. Good or bad change is inevitable and its best to not take life so seriously. I learned to try new things because when I get stuck in a box, it is hard to get myself out. I learned to keep a tight circle of people who actually care about me close. I learned that every person is born with potential that may or may not be cultivated depending on their environments and you have to actively worked against all that bullshit in your environment to be able to see who you can be.

Ugh. Look at me. I am literally crying on to my laptop. This took so much. I have never seen myself as intelligent, and I am going to be the first in my family to receive a PhD. My high school teacher told me my writing was "the worst I've seen" and I have won over twenty awards for my writing. I never knew that beauty could come in so many forms and how much I could like looking in a mirror. I have won over $30,000 and counting in scholarships, have mentored countless students to see their potential, and was accepted in all five of my PhD programs with full funding. I never took pictures like this because I felt like I didn't deserve it; but I know now that I do.

I saw my life as that tub I continuously tried to kill myself in. Small, confined, a clear beginning and end with walls all around me. Now, the sky isn't my limit - I am limitless. When I am depressed, I create. I create to connect and to try and convince others that their lives don't belong in a tub. They belong in the world. My story is important, and so is yours. I wish I could go back to 2015, and tell myself that I love her. She is so strong. She can do anything. Stand up for yourself and others and never stop. Lead with love in your heart, and remember empathy; the world will lose it soon. And lastly, stop listening to what others think of you Taylor. Write your own story, it's a best-seller.

#deepthots

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annathesillyfriend · 3 years ago

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Anna's August Fic Recs

Welcome to my August fic recommendations masterpost!! This has been quite a busy month for me but I'm holding onto last weeks of freedom. I am trying to read as much before uni starts and I had a pleasure of reading some brilliant fics this month. I am so excited to share them with you all! I hope your summer is going amazing and to those, who have just started classes - good luck!

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

HOLLAND & Co.

✨ Tom Holland

revenges is sweet by @t-lostinworlds

series, social media au, college!au, football player!tom, fake dating, idiots to lovers, all of our fave tropes, i am invested in this series more than i am in my own life, it's just that good

sunkissed by @duskholland

one-shot, 18+, surfer!tom x lifeguard!tom, exes to lovers, h's great mind at its finest 👏

souvenirs of the heart by @veryholland

one-shot, brought me to tears no joke, such a beutiful story, mila did such an amazing job!!

heartbreak girl by @lauras-collection

one-shot, 18+, lead singer!tom, based on 5SOS song, this is so goooood 😫😫 this story lives in my heart rent free right nextdoor to laura!!

act 1: scene 5 and 6 by @youandtom

one-shot, best friends to lovers, helping tom with learning lines, i loved this very much!

happier than ever by @vendettaparker

one-shot, tom being the great lad he is comes to save an awful date and we stan

the trial of the eldest holland by @reawritesthings

one-shot, ex!tom, welcome to the angst town! this is so deeply heartbreaking but so beautifully written!

lucky to be in love by @hollandsvogue

one-shot, rose is going staright for my silly little heart :')

slide in by @uglypastels

one-shot, frat!tom, i fall in love with this story time and time again

white winged dove by @muhollands

one-shot, 18+, conuntry!tom, insert country boy i love you vine here (also, i'd like to take this moment to kindly invite you all to go through d's whole masterlist cause it's brilliant. this mj blurb has sent me straight to hell but it's so worth it)

abide by @hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, mob!au, tom x reader x harrison, this made me feel some type of way 👁👄👁

getting ahead of ourselves by @/hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, college! lacrosse player!tom holland x tutor!reader, this is soft, this is cute, this is hot, this is everything! 12/10 would recommend

✨ Harrison Osterfield

little lune by @dovenymph

one-shot, celebrating your birthday with haz, made me want a refund for my birthday cause it's so lovely 🥺🥺

it will come back by @greenorangevioletgrass

one-shot, part of the rich kid!au series, 18+, richkid!haz x richkid!reader x actor!tom, there are no words in any language that would let me express how much i love ava and this au

✨ Harry Holland

wild side by @softholand

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, that trope was made to be written about mister harry holland, i swear

lost in your light by @spider-barnes

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, bloody lovely 💛

falling in love at a coffee shop by @/spider-barnes

one-shot, college!au, oh to fall in love with harry holland at a coffee shop 😫

hope is frightening thing by @peterplanet

one-shot, writer!reader x first da!harry, her book gets a film adaptation and harry is being is wonderful self 🥰

my forever by @unsaidholland

blurb, talking about your future with him, it's just 🥰🥰

circles by @farfromharry

one-shot, rich kid!au, enemies to lovers, so wonderful!

MARVEL

🎂 Suz's birthday fics

this total babe @samwilsons-pillowpecs gave us four beautiful gift on her birthday! we adore you, lovely 🥰 these stories are all wonderful anddeserve their own category 💛

you're the glitter in the dark

one-shot, 18+, mob!bucky

if i could touch you...

one-shot, 18+, boxer!steve

love you in a thousand ways

one-shot, 18+, ceo!sam

miss your kiss

one-shot, 18+, biker!thor

🎂@rodrikstark ’s 1.5k follower celebration!

collecion of headcanons with our favourite marvel boys as well as some other characters, i bloody love them all but my numer one has got to be joaquin teaching you spanish 😌

✨ Sam Wilson

book smart by @indyluckycharlie

one-shot, librarian!sam x PhD student!reader, such a warm and comfy little story by my dearest cate who i love very much 😌

he we go again by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, idiots in love 🥰🥰

adventures in babysitting captain america and winter solider by @princessmisery666

one-shot, reader takes the boys to disneyland and it's just so amazing!

stay awhile by @lacapucharoja

one-shot, black!reader, a saturday morning with sam 😌😌

slow motion by @ambrosiase

one-shot, 18+, sam in baggy grey sweatpants and no underwear, need i say more?

✨ Steve Rogers

bullies, bullied by @anika-ann

one-shot, my main babe is blessing us with protective steve and i love her 🥰

there's a peace in dreaming by @babycap

one-shot, i don't have the words to tell you how stunning this story is, please go read it

✨ Bucky Barnes

timer by @xbuchananbarnes

series, soulmate!au based on the movie TiMER (2009). i could go on and on about how incredible that series is but with dani it's a given, sooo 🤷‍♀️

the kids will be alright by @imaginationintowords

series, social media au, lawyer!bucky x interior designer!reader, single dad!bucky, single mom!reader raising their kid together as friends, also reader x clark kent. honestly this is one of my fave social media aus of all time. and it's got a sequel is coming!!

quick fix by @ocean-bucky

one-shot, tfatws!bucky x ofc, vidra is the queen of ofc's, you simply can't not love her characters!

grant (part 2) by @coffeecatsandsarcasm

two-shot, bucky's in a relationship with a single mom with a little boy, it's so soft, i love this little family!

before sunset, i fell by @buckysbiota

one-shot, modern!au, when i get drunk i get myself cake, when reader got drunk, she got herself a husband. a very fine husband 😏

alcohol you later by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, is it the 4th of dani's fics on this list? yes, she's just that powerful

three flags up by @starbuckie

one-shot, 18+, campcounselor!bucky x campcounselor!reader, best friends to lovers, buck being a cute little puppy in love and i adore him very much

and he kissed me right there by @sunmoonandbucky

one-shot, veteran!bucky, age gap, this is so full of feelings and it's gonna steal your heart!

lost and found by @sunshinebuckybarnes

two-shot, neighbour!bucky, alpine being the matchmaker of the year and we love that for her

hazy dreams and good mornings by @angrythingstarlight

one-shot, 18+, firefighter!bucky, i think that's enough encouragement to read this gem 😏

✨ Joaquin Torres

red by @remmysbounty

one-shot, a truly exceptional story!!

hold my words, keep us together by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, soulmate!au, just simply stunning!

✨Peter Parker

love lies by @rosyparkers

series, social media au, y/n is silk but peter doesn't know it, peter is spiderman but y/n doesn't know it, sarah is the brightest star in the universe and everyone knows it

sunset lovers by @duskholland

one-shot, college! au, soulmate!au where what your soulmate writes on their skin, appears on yours. i don't think i have to tell you that eveything written by h, my beloved is pure gold. the softest thing!

always waiting (for you to come home) by @peterbenjiparker

one-shot, reader comes to peter cause she needs him to patch her up after patrol, it's so funny and sweet and i just love it so much, m is the bestest!!

perfectly a little late by @/t-lostinworlds

one-shot, college!au, reader forgets about peter's birthday. or does she 👀 please, give a round of applause for this wonderful writer who's been feeding us so well this month 👏👏

this fic by @peeterparkr

one-shot, last kiss with peter :') nancy knows all the most beautiful ways to break someone's heart

the plan by @spideyyeet

series, aveneger!reader, reader likes peter, peter likes mj, mysterio shows up, lots of angsty things happen. it's so bloody good, my mates, go read it!!

burning red by @spideyspeaches

one-shot, avenger!reader who who describes people's personalities as colors, it's just a stunning story with wonderful writing and i love it!!

this fic by @mcumendes

blurb, peter brings y/n flowers and is very very adorable!!

kiss me more by @celestialholland

one-shot, first make out with peter and i'm just 😫😫 in love

the reveal by @cloudybarnes

one-shot, best friends!reader where she finds out about him being spiderman, so lovely!!

always by @ptersmj

one-shot, an absolutely adorable best friends to lovers moment

red-handed by @/vendettaparker

one-shot, stark!reader, morgan interrupts y/n and peter's alone time 😏😂

OTHERS

✨ Spencer Reid

as told by flowers by @reidingmelodies

one-shot, story about the progress of the relationship with spencer told by flowers (duh 😂), it's just wonderful!!

✨ Frank Adler

thnks fr th mmrs by @wiypt-writes

one-shot, 18+, reader goes to frank the night before his wedding, i love this with everything i have

will you hold on my love by @writerwrites

one-shot, don't come anywhere near this piece without tissues!!

✨ Ransom Drysdale

undercover boss by @chase-your-dreams-away

series, reader's working at drysdales' company and hooks up with ransom not knowing who he is. this series is so bloody good! i love the reader in here so much!!

a/n: if you catch some kind of mistake or if you see that i miscredited someone - please let me know so i can change that!

#anna's fic recs #august fic recs #fic recs #marvel fic recs #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #harry holland x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader

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liladiurne · 3 years ago

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Lila’s rec lists: Books Pt.1

I was asked by @younggardencandy for a list of things that inspire me and my writing. I was originally going to just throw things together, but as I started listing books, the list got much bigger than anticipated and I decided to just start with books and then go on to music (and then possibly movies?) I don’t know 🤣. We’ll see. Because I don’t want to annoy anyone, and because I don’t want to spent all day on this (knowing me, that could happen), I’ll split this into many parts. Maybe I can even make this a regular thing! Wouldn’t that be fun? (Well, for me at least...) Anyways, here is part 1!

So, here are some books that I love, and which have influenced me directly and, I’m sure, indirectly.

Call Me By Your Name (2007) - André Aciman

This is predictable but I couldn’t start this list any differently. This is probably my favourite book of all time. Aciman is a master when it comes to portraying the various ways in which love tortures us, and isn’t that what I’m all about??? 🤣 In all seriousness, I have recommended this book countless times and I will again and again. I know that there is a movie (and it is great, don’t get me wrong), but this book is something else. It is so much more immersive, so beautifully written, so heartwrenching. After reading it the first time, I couldn’t sleep for days. That’s how much it touched me. And I’ve read it once a year, every winter, since then. I guess reading it in the winter makes me forget about the cold outside and takes me to sunny Italy for a time.

Briefly, for those who have never heard of it, this book is about a clever 17-year-old who lives in Italy with his parents in the summers. His father is a very prominent professor of archaeology and every summer they host a Phd student in their beautiful villa so that this student can work on their thesis and assist the professor with his work. The book recalls the events of one particular summer where the visitor is a very handsome philosophy student with whom our main character is immediately fascinated. The book is narrated like a trip down memory lane, with various reminiscences of events sometimes vague, sometimes so very vivid. As opposed to the movie, there is a whole two more parts of the story that aren’t shown on screen (a tiny fraction of the second part is shown, but not nearly as much as we see in the book) and there is a considerable timeskip at the end, where the two characters meet again years later. It is an incredible story of how even the briefest of love stories can change us and remain with us throughout our lives.

Extract: But all these hours were strained by fear, as if fear were a brooding specter, or a strange, lost bird trapped in our little town, whose sooty wing flecked every living thing with a shadow that would never wash. I didn’t know what I was afraid of, nor why I worried so much, nor why this thing that could so easily cause panic felt like hope sometimes and, like hope in the darkest moments, brought such joy, unreal joy, joy with a noose tied around it. The thud my heart gave when I saw him unannounced both terrified and thrilled me. I was afraid when he showed up, afraid when he failed to, afraid when he looked at me, more frightened yet when he didn’t. The agony wore me out in the end, and, on scalding afternoons, I’d simply give out and fall asleep on the living room sofa and, though still dreaming, know exactly who was in the room, who had tiptoed in and out, who was standing there, who was looking at me and for how long, who was trying to pick out today’s paper while making the least rustling sound, only to give up and look for tonight’s film listings whether they woke me or not.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1984) - Milan Kundera

It’s been a few years since I’ve last read this one, and taking it out of my bookshelf reminded me that I should really give it another go. This is a very philosophical novel, and I’m sure I didn’t get half of the references and symbolism in there, but I enjoyed it anyway, and I remember parts of it often. The essence of it has stayed with me. When I say it’s “philosophical”, I hope I’m not putting anyone off 🤣 because it’s enjoyable, I swear! The writing is beautiful, the characters are fascinating. It’s also sort of a political novel, taking place during the Soviet occupation of Czechoslovakia in the 60s, so there’s an historical aspect to it as well.

The story is centred around four main characters: a doctor, his wife, his mistress, and his mistress’ lover. The central theme of the book is that lightness, in the title, which means that our lives are “light” because everything in them occurs only once, and as such, every single decision and every event can have irrevocable consequences. Or, at least, that’s what I got from it.

Extract: We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come. Was it better to be with Tereza or to remain alone? There is no means of detecting which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth, if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, sketch is not quite the word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture.

Hunting and Gathering (2004) - Anna Gavalda

If you love found family stories, you’ll absolutely love this book. The story takes place in Paris and is about four very different people who find each other: Camille, a young artist suffering with anorexia who works as a cleaning lady at night; Philibert, a shy aristocrat with obsessive compulsive disorder; Franck, an outspoken womaniser chef; and Paulette, a senior lady living in a retirement home and longing for her house and her garden. I fell in love with these characters, with their insecurities and the way their messy lives cross and how they come to understand and love each other in spite of their differences.

Extract: Camille really wanted to draw her. Paulette’s face evoked little blades of grass from the roadside, wild violets, forget-me-nots, buttercups. A soft face, open, gentle, luminous, fine like Japanese paper. The lines of sorrow disappeared behind the vapor rising from the tea and gave way to a thousand little kindnesses at the corners of her eyes. Camille thought she was lovely. Paulette was thinking exactly the same thing. She was so graceful, this young thing, so calm and elegant in her vagabond’s trappings. She wished it were spring so she could show her the garden, the quince branches in bloom, and the scent of the seringa. No, this girl was not like other girls. An angel from heaven, who had to wear huge bricklayer’s boots to stay down here among us.

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1994-1995) - Haruki Murakami

This is surely not the only Murakami book that will find itself on one of these lists, but it is so far my favourite (I have yet to read everything he’s written, though I think I can say I’m slowly getting there). How to explain this book? My gosh. It is such an adventure, I don’t think it’s possible to even summarise it. Let’s just say it starts when the main character begins searching for his lost cat, and then it all turns into a truly gripping mystery in which his wife goes missing as well and he meets a succession of very interesting and mysterious characters, in true Murakami fashion. This author is one of my absolute favourites. He is a master of magical realism and my god does he know how to grip a reader. Also, I aspire to reach his level of character building and dialogue. Oh, the dialogues. I like to say that every time two characters sit down for coffee in a Murakami novel, something incredible is about to be revealed. I devoured this book (which is quite a little brick, believe me) in something like three days. It’s funny, intriguing, touching, thought-provoking. I wish I could even begin to explain the plot, but then that might ruin all the mystery and the fun of discovering it for yourself!

Extract: Anyway, it seems to me that the way most people go on living (I suppose there are a few exceptions), they think that the world of life (or whatever) is this place where everything is (or is supposed to be) basically logical and consistent... It’s like when you put instant rice pudding mix in a bowl in the microwave, and push the button, and you take the cover off when it rings, and then you’ve got rice pudding. I mean, what happens in between the time when you push the switch and when the microwave rings? You can’t tell what’s going on under the cover. Maybe the instant rice pudding first turns into macaroni gratin in the darkness when nobody’s looking and only then turns back into rice pudding. We think it’s natural to get rice pudding after we put rice pudding mix in the microwave and the bell rings, but to me that’s just a presumption. I would be kind of relieved if, every once in a while, after you put rice pudding mix in the microwave and it rang and you opened the top, you got macaroni gratin.

Madame Bovary (1857) - Gustave Flaubert

I felt like I had to put at least one classic novel on this first list, and I couldn’t think of a better one to start with. It’s funny because the first time I read this book, I absolutely hated it. Either I was too young to understand or pay attention to the meaning of the story or it’s simply because I read it for school, which has the power to take the joy out of reading, doesn’t it? But for some reason, I felt inclined to read it again years later and wow did I fall in love with this book!

First of all, it should be noted that Madame Bovary, for the time it was written, was truly revolutionary. A story told not only from the point of view of a woman, but including such subjects as adultery, and the hardships of the feminine condition. Flaubert was actually accused of insulting public morals for writing this, and was only allowed to publish the book uncensored after being acquitted.

Madame Bovary is about a woman with dreams and hopes who aspires to live a full and adventurous life, but finds herself trapped in a boring and disappointing marriage with a humble man with whom she has barely anything in common. It’s so heartbreaking and so beautifully written that I don’t understand how I didn’t love this book at first reading. Shame on you, younger Lila! Shame on you!

Extract: At the bottom of her heart, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like shipwrecked sailors, she turned despairing eyes upon the solitude of her life, seeking afar off some white sail in the mists of the horizon. She did not know what this chance would be, what wind would bring it her, towards what shore it would drive her, if it would be a shallop or a three-decker, laden with anguish or full of bliss to the portholes. But each morning as she awoke, she hoped it would come that day; she listened to every sound, sprang up with a start, wondered that it did not come; then at sunset, always more saddened, she longed for the morrow.

#book recs #rec lists #lila posts #lila recs

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your-brilliant-lady-m · 3 years ago

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Part 5 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Guardians

Helloooo! Did you think I was done? No!

My PhD thesis chapters were approved last week, so have some celebratory meta. I haven't seen the latest Season 4 episodes, so do forgive me for not being up to date.

Welcome to the next part of my analysis of the basic concepts of Miraculous Ladybug. Today we are talking about Master Fu, Order of the Guardians and how little everything here makes sense. I highly recommend reading previous parts to fully understand this one, but I'll try to quote most parts of earlier posts.

Order of the Guardians

Order is an international and ancient organisation (New York Special showed us the guardian from North America and he was dressed like Su Han). Presumably, Miraculous jewels were created by these people. Guardians are responsible for the preservation of jewels and knowledge about them. They also distribute Miraculouses to worthy people around the world to combat mostly magical threats, but sometimes jewels are used against normal threats too. It's implied that Master Fu used Miraculouses during WW2 when he was in Paris. Perhaps he performed some spywork with Marianne, but the magical nature of his interferences was discovered and he was forced to flee, before returning to France many decades later.

Why does the Order need so many people to take care of a 3 Miracle Boxes? If its only purpose is to preserve knowledge, keep magical secrets and distribute Miraculous jewels then wouldn't it be more logical to have Master-Apprentice system? It's much easier to keep magic knowledge a secret and train a few people in martial arts than doing the same in the self-sufficient temple full of people, keeping in mind that a good part of them are teenagers and children, who are bad at keeping secrets. Also a single person can travel around the world much easier to give out Miraculouses. Imagine that we have a few active guardians traveling the world with Boxes. What do other people at the temple do in the meantime? They teach the next generation about the powers of each Miraculous and Mirakung Fu, but besides that?

Master-Apprentice system gives us more personal conflict between Fu and his mentor and makes his relationship with Marinette and Adrien more nuanced. In this scenario Fu accidentally caused the death of his Master at 14 because he wasn't careful. It makes sense for him to take on only 1 or 2 students if this is how things were done with Miraculous Guardians. This Wang Fu is very cautious and protective, he spent the majority of his life afraid of hurting someone else and never took an apprentice as a result. But now he is ready to try again, since he is not getting any younger and he likes these 2 kids. He wants them to succeed. Maybe Master Fu, becomes the father figure for Adrien in this situation and a guide for Marinette. Just think about it. This way writers avoid the need to develop all these extra characters (Su Han) and traditions related to the Order. All inconsistencies I mentioned before and later in this post are gone now! Hell, even memory loss and the changing of the Miracle Box shape could make more sense. We also raise the stakes post-amnesia, if it happens of course (the whole Season 3 finale didn't make sense, so stay tuned for my next meta). Marinette and Adrien are on their own now, there's no one who can give them answers. It's very fun scenario, which has potential to be brilliant. Any thoughts on that?

The existence of Order of the Guardians is not quite a secret, at least it wasn't in XIX century China. Master Fu in "Feast" says that guardianship was considered "a great honor". It implies that people who lived close to the temple of the Order knew about Miraculouses and what exactly guardians did for the greater good.

The existence of other Miracle Boxes around the world makes sense from a real-life perspective. Writers have the ability to create many stories set in the same universe and use them for merchandise and an almost unlimited amount of content. Judging by the unholy amount of specials in production, this is exactly what the creators are going to do. It probably won't go down well, but who knows?

However, it doesn't work in our main story. The main conflict is Paris-centred. Gabriel's motivations revolve around Emilie's resurrection and Season 4 gives us more reasons to suspect that Adrien's mom wasn't as wonderful as everyone says. Hawkmoth still remains the main villain of the show and most likely it's going to stay that way. There's no point in moving the main story to different places for the sake of introducing more Miracle Boxes from around the world. Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't needed to fight something halfway across the world unless Hawkmoth also changes locations.

LB and CN are centrepieces of this franchise. They brought success and money to ZAG. Creators constantly need to remind the audience that this new piece of media with new characters who will never be mentioned again is connected to Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Writers have to come up with reasons to include our heroic duo into the story even if makes no sense.

New York Special had to introduce American Heroes whose names rarely come up in the fandom because people stopped caring about them or their stories shortly after the release of the Special. I barely saw any content dedicated to them. In order to bring LB and CN into the story, you have to include Hawkmoth too. Gabriel suddenly needs to get his hands on the Eagle Miraculous and goes to USA. Marinette and Adrien suddenly have a class trip to New York. Unfortunately, their presence in this story is required only to expand the world of Miraculous and attract fans of the show, so that they could keep an eye on new content related to newly introduced characters.

In the end, it's not their story. Events of the special don't affect main story of the show and the development of the love square is merely an illusion, because Adrien and Marinette are no closer than before. In season 4 LB and CN are growing apart and their test of trust in NY Special doesn't matter. Perhaps, some people don't see it that way and it's their right, but I find it hard to see NYS as a valid contribution to canon. I mean, even people in large portion of the fandom state in the tags on AO3 that "specials are not canon", "specials didn't happen" or "ignores both specials". It speaks volumes about continuity and preferences of your fandom.

Shanghai Special didn't give us more information about the Order, which is located in China, history of Miraculous jewels. We still don't know much about how Gabriel and Emilie found Peacock and Butterfly. Maybe, Marinette's family had connections to Miraculous jewels. Maybe, Adrien does some snooping and discovers research his parents made while Gabriel is away. All of these are relevant to the main story. However, we got something much different in the end.

Marinette chases Adrien across the globe and they make new friends. Fey becomes Ladydragon and now has a direct contact with Marinette through her uncle. Gabriel's desire to get his hands on the Prodigious comes out of nowhere. Apparently, he had been planning this trip for years, presumably even before Adrien was born. It probably happened at the same time as Agrestes found 2 Miraculouses. He bought bracelet-key (which is also a Miraculous apparently, but its Kwami is a Guardian of the Prodigious and they existed separately for a very long time - and let us not dwell on this mess) from some shady mafia boss, who can easily find out just who Gabriel really is (fashion designer billionaire) and use this information to blackmail him. This Special didn't answer important questions, but it gave us a new superhero character.

The real question is whether Miraculous as a project will survive long enough for writers to create content for every minor character they introduced in all specials. This is only a beginning after all.

Miraculous is not a global show and it can't be globalised in a way that makes sense, at least with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the centre of action. Case closed.

Mirakung Fu

I liked the idea of Mirakung Fu introduced in "Furious Fu". It makes sense and things rarely do in this show. Miraculous grants its holder superhuman strength, stamina, endurance and ability to fight. This means that essentially transformed heroes are guided by magic in combat. There's nothing personal in the way Miraculous holders fight. You can predict their moves and learn how to fight this magic guidance, which is what Su Han does.

However, if the holder has any special training, skills or knows any martial art in their civilian life then they become more dangerous opponents during transformation because now their fighting is a mix of magical moves and their personal knowledge, tricks and style. Therefore, Adrien and Kagami as skilful fencers have more chances of winning against someone who knows Mirakung Fu than Marinette, for example.

Memory loss

At the end of season 3, we find out several things:

apparently, now Miracle Box can change appearance to suit its guardian;

when Guardian passes down the Miracle Box to someone else, they lose memories not only about everything related to Miraculous, but also about pretty much everything in their life (Fu doesn't recognise Marianne, instead he experiences the love at first sight)

Master Fu trains Marinette to be the proper holder and next Guardian off-screen. He says that her training as the holder is complete in "Feast" and wants her to become the next Guardian. Fu told her lots of things, and yet, he never mentioned the fact that he would lose his memory after relinquishing the box, nor the fact that Marinette would lose her memory afterwards. She finds out about this from Wayzz after the battle with Miracle Queen and the letter that Master Fu gave her. That's not proper training! How on Earth do you forget to mention this memory loss? How?

Master Fu's amnesia is a convenient plot device that removes him from the narrative almost completely. That's mostly all there is to it. Why? Because it doesn't make sense.

Fu was around 7 or 8 when he started his training. The disaster at the temple happened when he was 14. He stated that his training was never complete, which means that he never passed any magical ritual, never swore an oath or was bound by some kind of spell that made him subjected to the rule of memory loss.

Miracle Boxes belonged to the order, not Fu. Their design reflected their country of origin because these Miraculous were made and kept in China. They were just standing there on the shelves not magically bound to anyone in particular. When Feast attacked, monks just tossed Wang Fu the miracle box and grimoire. No one at the temple lost their memory after Fu took the box with him (Su Han is the proof). Su Han not only remembers Fu and his mistake but everything that happened that fateful day as well. In "Furious Fu" Marinette explains Su Han that Master Fu lost his memory in the very first conversation they have. However, after Ladybug and Chat Noir fight Su Han on the roof and escape with the Miracle Box, the latter searches for Fu and attempts to take his staff from him. In this scene, Su Han acts like Fu knows very well what is going on and who he is.

Su Han should be aware of the memory loss rule as the Celestial Guardian. He remarks on the different shape of the Mother Miracle Box and calls her "incorrect", which means that Su Han should have been able to easily tell that previous Guardian lost his memory and the Miracle Box is now bound to someone else. But he doesn't say anything. Moreover, since Su Han is supposed to know about amnesia, he seemed awfully chill about forcing this 14-year-old girl in front of him to give up the box and her memories. Hell, Chat Noir wasn't on board with this. But we get zero reaction from Su Han.

During the first conversation between Marinette and Su Han, he doesn't ignore what she is trying to say, instead he actively comments on every word. Even if Su Han didn't listen when Marinette told him about Fu's memory loss, than he still should be able to understand that Fu doesn't recognise him, because of common sense and the "incorrect" shape of the box. But nothing of the sort happens. Because writers apparently forgot that "memory loss" is supposed to be known to everyone in the Order. On-screen it looks like Su Han is not aware of the "amnesia rule".

"Furious Fu" makes the concept of memory loss a plothole no matter how you look at it. Just like "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc", as well as "Kwamibuster" this episode is not consistent within itself. It does not surprise me, however.

Grimoire and Guardian Staffs

Let's talk about the Miraculous Grimoire. Good things first.

There are no illustrations of Miraculouses in camouflage. Kwami can't read its contents, only guardians can. Certain elements are written in riddles as an additional precaution. The book contains only the information people have learned so far, which means that Miraculouses have more unexplored potential ("Mr. Pigeon 72"). It describes powers of each Miraculous, provides information about weapons, has instructions for potions that don't make sense (see previous parts).

Unfortunately, everything is about to go downhill from here.

Guardians are taught how to read the writing in this book. They can read it just like people learn to read texts in a different language. This means that one can read Grimoire like any other book (you don't need to consult some guide to decode each letter or word). Master Fu proclaimed Marinette an almost fully trained Guardian. He should have taught her how to read the Grimoire then (he doesn't know the code very well, but he knew enough to understand the general meaning and content of the book according to "Collector"). He didn't. We don't know why. He shows her powers of every Miraculous but doesn't teach her the code.

Master Fu knows that Grimoire now belongs to Gabriel Agreste. He knows that it's dangerous for someone else to have it. If they knew how to read the Grimoire, they could discover all secrets of Miraculouses and harm Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes. It's very important to keep the information about the code top secret because Fu is not the only one with the source material.

What does he do then? Master Fu proceeds to write a French translation of Grimoire for Marinette, a translation that he doesn't even need. He carries it with him at all times on a tablet (without any precautions) just like the Miracle box after "Feast". Naturally, it means that in "Miracle Queen", Gabriel and Nathalie easily managed to get their hands on the tablet and Miracle Box. It allows the plot to happen, sure. But it doesn't make any sense.

"Furious Fu" created another curious plot hole. It will probably be ignored, of course. Su Han has a staff with a magical compass that allows him to find any Miracle box, but not the Miraculous jewels for some reason. How does the staff work? Can it locate the box without the Miraculous? If yes, then it seems useless. What's the point in the ability to locate an empty box? If it can locate the box only with the Miraculous jewels inside, it implies that the staff can track the location of every Miraculous too. So, Su Han could just locate the Butterfly and Peacock without any problem. But he talks about reassigning Ladybug and Black Cat to adults and defeating Hawkmoth like locating the Butterfly is not possible. This situation makes the Guardian Staff a simple plot device that creates plot holes and its only purpose is to explain how Su Han found Marinette.

Also, I have a few more words to say about this. Master Fu had a Guardian Staff that was never mentioned before. I wonder why? That's because the staff didn't exist before "Furious Fu" was written. Writers just went: "Do you know what would be cool? If Fu's cane was really a secret Guardian Staff with a compass all along that he decided to keep even after he lost his memory? It would make people wonder whether Master Fu is faking amnesia, and everyone will definitely call him an awful mentor after this even though we kind of tried to make him a good and responsible person."

Fu didn't give it to Marinette and didn't mention it to her. Why? When he gave up his memory, he should have written about this in his letter at least. Why did he decide to keep it? He can't use it anyway now.

Please note how in the flashbacks Fu didn't take any staff with him when he escaped the temple. Su Han seemed to know how Fu's staff looked like. It means that Master Fu didn't make this staff himself, because it belonged to the Order.

Su Han wasn't even surprised that Marinette didn't have the staff as the current Guardian. Was she not supposed to have it? He never questioned the fact that the former Guardian without memories has the staff. Su Han actually returns this staff to Fu after he is deakumatized and Fu acts like they have never met before. Why did Su Han gave the staff back when he knows what it is and to whom it should belong (to him or to Marinette as the current Guardian)? The staff is useless in the hands of the civilian. Does Marianne know about its secret? We'll probably never find out, unfortunately.

Guardian Staff of Master Fu has a compass too and therefore this also makes it a plot device, just like Su Han's staff.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous analysis #miraculous meta #ml meta #ml analysis #miraculous critical #miraculous ladybug critical #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #mt of lb and cn #miraculous guardian #miraculous order of guardians #master fu #miraculous master fu #wang fu #miraculous su han

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years ago

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GF - Mystery Twins: Not Freaking Out

A new AU inspired by Mystery Skulls…

AO3 link

Ch.1

~~~~~~~~~~

April 6th, 1972

“What?! Stanford, tell him he’s crazy!”

But Ford glanced down at his navy-blue pamphlet, wincing, and closed the curtains, purposely keeping his eyes off his brother.

“Stanford? Don’t leave me hanging?” Stanley croaked. “High six?”

And the door was slammed in his face by his father’s hand, deaf to the wails of his nephew and the choked sobs from his mother.

Stanley growled in his throat. “Fine! I can make it on my own! I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone! I’ll make millions and you’re RUE the day you turned your back on me!”

~~~~~~~~~~

May 14th, 1976

Fiddleford had insisted that he and Stanford go out to celebrate their upcoming graduation. In a few days they would no longer be students, ready to use what they learned out in the real world. Stanford was reluctant, but agreed. What were the odds anything outside of a few drinks and some good food would occur? Stanford had a lot to drink for and it did seem like he never left campus for some typical college fun, so he took a shot and then stuck to some cozy beer and some onion rings.

After fleeing Columbia prison with a gang, and then weaseling his way out of that mess in New Mexico, Stanley had been apprehensive about trying to make it big in southern California, not knowing much about Stanford’s new life, but he did know that’s where he was going to college; Moses bless Ma and her phone calls. But what were the odds Stanley would ever run into his brother? He needed the money so he took the shot.

At first, Stanford thought it was his imagination and he nearly choked on his beer while Fiddleford was busy talking to a guy who was also from Tennessee. A second, longer look confirmed his fears and Stanford saw his long-lost family member exit the bar, leaving behind a small table with a few empty beers on it to smoke.

With Stanley’s back to him, Stanford studied him through the glass. His hair was a bit longer than how he kept it in high-school and it wasn’t slick back tonight; probably from holding his head so much. From what Stanford had seen before Stanley had leaned against the window, his face wasn’t as round and youthful as it was four years ago; he had grown a square jaw like Pa’s. Like Stanford’s. His skin was rough and scraggly, unlike Stanford who was clean-shaved, and he wore work boots, dirty jeans, and a worn white t-shirt. Stanley Pines looked rough around the edges, but when he re-entered the bar Stanford saw that spark in his brown eyes that guaranteed a heart made of plastic gold and a promise to protect the things he cares about.

Stanford wanted to be angry. He wanted to shake his rage, punch the jerk in the face, and leave for campus. But he couldn’t. He was too relieved to see his brother alive and a very very small part of him had missed him like crazy these last four years. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive Stanley for what he did, but maybe if he was ready to apologize, Stanford could be ready.

Stanley’s eyes landed on Stanford on his way to his table and he froze like a statue and paled three sheets. Stanford wondered if Stanley would pass out and he could feel himself turn red with embarrassment. He bit his lip and tried to move his own eyes to the six-fingered hand around his drink, but his mind stayed on Stanley and the corner of his eye kept him in view.

Stanley looked ready to walk out the door, but with a sigh he returned to his table. Stanford could feel Stanley staring at his back; he let him; it was only fair that Stanley got to absorb Stanford’s appearance since he had his fill of how much Stanley had changed. He was bigger than he was in high-school, taller and slightly thicker maybe, but not nearly as muscular as his twin. Stanford’s hair was still an uncontrollable fluffy mess and he still wore glasses, and today he wore clean jeans with black sneakers to go with his black t-shirt that was covered by a brown jacket with tons of pockets.

Stanford couldn’t stand his brother looking at him and not looking back for too long. When he looked at Stanley, a waitress was picking up the empty glasses. Stanford watched Stanley hold up two fingers, the waitress nodded and said something he could hear across the bar, and she left. Stanley looked at Stanford, their eyes meeting, and he gestured casually for Stanford to join him at his two-person table and looked away, waiting for Stanford to either accept or reject the invitation. After taking a deep breath, Stanford swallowed one last mouthful of his drink, wiped his lips dry, and made himself walk to his brother’s table.

If either of them thought things were awkward before the moment Stanford sat in the empty chair, the atmosphere became even thicker and the room suddenly felt even warmer. None of them said a word and remained silent until the waitress came by with two more beers. While Stanford quietly thanked her, Stanley gulped his down. Stanford snorted with a small smile as he brought his glass up to his lips. The drink half-empty, Stanley slammed his down, gave a small grunt, and spat out, “So, what’s the word, Sixer?”

Stanford smiled as he slowly began to spill about college and his new friends. Well, more like best friend and acquaintances, but his status was much better than it was in high-school and he was much happier. Stanley nearly choked on his beer when Stanford mentioned his twelve PhDs and he immediately congratulated him and told him how proud he was; he even ordered two shots to celebrate with. Stories of college were swapped for stories of Stanley’s travels and before either brothers knew it, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. (This was probably thanks to the alcohol in their systems, but let’s not ruin a good thing.)

As less and less people crowded the bar and the drinks started to slow down, more and more was said between the pair of twins and it was almost too easy with how things flowed. Eventually they were the only ones at the bar and they could tell the staff was waiting for them to leave so they could close, so they decided to go for a walk to keep the good conversation going. It seemed like nothing could end such a surprisingly successful night until the hairs on the back of Stanley’s neck stood up and he looked over his shoulder.

Four dreary shadows followed them in the dead of night, but Stanley recognized them instantly. He tried to get Stanford to leave, but the eldest twin refused, no matter how hard the younger one pushed. Stanley stopped trying when Stanford gritted through his teeth, “I won’t abandon you again, Lee.”

The twins may have been out-numbered, but the gang was out-matched. After a few scrapes and close calls, the Pines twins left the goons on the sidewalk and ran before the cops could be called. One look at Stanley while under a lamppost and Stanford saw how badly his brother was beaten, so he forced him onto a trolley for Backupsmore and took him up to his dorm, where a first-aid kit sat under his bed.

Stanford ignored the fact that Fiddleford wasn’t back while he fixed Stanley up. He also ignored his twin’s groveling, claiming he could take care of himself, but Stanley had a broken nose and needed the extra pair of hands to snap his bones back into place. When all was said and done and Stanley’s schnoz had quit bleeding, Stanford filled an ice pack and made his twin lay down on his bed so he could rest. That was when Stanley spat out what had been on his mind all night.

“Why do you even care?” His eyes were covered by his beefy arm, making his expression hard to read. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

Stanford stared. Had he really made it seem he was so angry at Stanley he wouldn’t help him? “I… Yes. Yes, I’m still mad at you, but… but I…” He stumbled over his words and swallowed, the ice pack making his fingers numb.

Stanley peeked at his brother and sighed. “I’m mad, too… but I missed you so much that I ain’t got the time to be mad. You get what I’m sayin’?”

Stanford smiled and could feel a hundred pounds being lifted from his shoulders. “I think so. I might be angry at you for what you did, but I’m at a point in which I don’t care. At least, not as much as I care about getting my brother back.” He added nervously.

Stanley finally returned the smile. “Yeah. Me too.” And he accepted the ice pack and placed it on his head to help with the ache.

The next morning, Fiddleford tiptoed into his dorm and was surprised to find Stanford asleep on the floor, sitting with his arms-crossed on the bed, and a stranger on Stanford’s bed, one of his hands in Stanford’s hair. But a closer look told Fiddleford that the stranger was family and so he left them alone without a single sound.

~~~~~~~~~~

“No way?!” Stanley reread the check his brother handed to him. His eyes were particularly drawn to all those zeros, but he also checked the address and such and such. He grinned proudly and handed the slip of paper back with a playfully shove of his twin’s shoulder. “Congrats, Sixer!”

“Thank you, Stanley.” Stanford replied with rosy cheeks, pocketing the check in his brown jacket. “Now I just have to decide on what to study and how I’ll study it.”

“You’ll figure something out.” Stanley said as he munched on his bacon, happy to sit at a breakfast joint with his brother and just casually talk about life and junk. He didn’t need anything else. “Stanford Pines always thinks of a way.”

Stanford chuckled nervously, then changed the subject. “So, how do you like San Francisco?”

“It’s nice.” Stanley muttered with a shrug. “Not gonna lie, much of what I’ve already seen. Big city on water. It’s a lot nicer than Columbia, for sure, but it’s okay.” Stanford didn’t miss how uncomfortable he was about the subject, which made him only more sure what he was about to say was the right thing.

“I… I think I’ve decided what I want to study.”

Stanley grinned, his spirit much higher. “That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s hear it!”

“Well, when I was thinking about it, I couldn’t help but remember how I had always been teased for my six fingers.” Stanford started, raising a hand and wiggling his fingers. “But that got me thinking about anomalies.” And he pulled out his book on the subject and set it on the table for Stan to pick up and flick through the pages. “You know, things that are odd, unusual, statistically improbable, but not impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible, yeah I know.” Stanley agreed. “Well this all looks great! So you’re gonna go find monsters and stuff? Sounds right up your alley!”

“Thank you.” Stanford said with a smile. “I’ve already calculated where to start, and there appears to be a large cluster of anomalies in Oregon. The grant will cover the cost of a house and lab and everything I could need to properly investigate. But… it’s a bit overwhelming.” Stanford admitted. “It’s a lot to explore for one man.”

“Hey hey,” Stanley said firmly to squash any doubt. “You’ll be amazing at it.”

“I was thinking of hiring an assistant.” Stanford went on, hoping to get his point across successfully. “The grant is enough to cover some help.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea! What about that Fiddlesticks guy?”

“I was actually thinking of keeping this in the family.”

Stanley’s smile dropped. After staring at him for a second or two, he lowered his head and sipped his orange juice. “Oh.”

“I’ll pay you for your work.” Stanford explained. “I haven’t even started on the blueprints for the house yet, but you were always creative and ingenuitive; we can think of a design we both like and would give us our own rooms and space. You wouldn’t have to pay for rent or the bills, you working would do that, but your pay would be lower, but it would be enough for whatever you need. Sure, if I really had to I could probably figure it out, but I would really rather not, and…”

“I’m in.”

It was Stanford’s turn to stare. He was really expecting his brother to refuse, to be stubborn about this. Stanford wasn’t an idiot; he knew Stanley was living in his car and had not been doing well the last four years, and he harbored a lot of guilt for that, but now he had a chance to make things right. Things were still uncertain, and there were still some things about what happened they would have to talk about, some day, but family helps family. Right? “Really?”

Stanley laughed and smiled at him. “Yeah, bro! You need help and I can help you, so I’m in. Last thing I need is for you to go skipping into Roadkill County by yourself and getting eaten by a two-headed mountain lion or something. ‘Sides, we always wanted to go on monster hunts as kids, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is way too short to not do whatcha wanna do.”

Stanford grinned. “You won’t regret this, Lee! I swear!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Stanley chuckled. It was scary how similar they were; it appeared that Stanford was just as scared of losing Stanley as Stanley was of losing Stanford. “Wherever we go, we go together, right?” And he raised a hand to him.

Stanford grinned. “Right.” And they sealed the deal with a high-six.

~~~~~~~~~~

August 30th, 2000

“Move! MOVE! Outta my way!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Please excuse us, sorry!”

Ford was attempting to be the responsible and respectful one, since Stan was clearly going to be rambunctious and obnoxious enough for them both, but truth be told, if Stan was the one who was calm, Ford would be going ballistic.

They both ran into the hospital lobby, glanced at the directions board for the correct floor, and glanced at the elevator, stuffed with people like sardines in a tin can. Stan groaned and darted for the door to the stairs, making Ford grin and follow. They both used their adrenaline to run as fast as they could up the stairs and they nearly broke the door off the hinges at the sixth floor.

Of course, no one familiar was there to greet them, but the twins took that as a good sign; they hadn’t missed it. They walked to room 18 and saw that it was labeled “Pines.” The door suddenly opened and they were met faced-to-face with their nephew, Alex.

The young man grinned at the sight of his uncles. “Hey! You made it!”

“We wouldn’t miss it, my boy.” Ford assured, patting his back.

“Is the squirt here yet?” Stan asked.

Alex shook his head. “No, not yet. But Dana’s at eight centimeters, so it shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Well, we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Thanks. I better go get her ice chips…”

“Oh, I gotcha, sport.” Stan said and headed down the hall casually, his hands in the pockets of his khakis.

“Seriously,” Alex muttered to Ford, a bit more mournful now. “I really appreciate… I’m glad you’re both here.”

Ford smiled kindly and squeezed his shoulder. “Your father would be very proud.”

Alex managed to smile back. An alarm rang over the door for room 18, and Alex ran back inside, leaving Ford to stand there in horror as Dana lay in bed, sweating. Two doctors hurried inside the hospital room and the door was closed, leaving Ford in the dark. He sighed, hoping no more death would strike this family, and he took a seat in the hall to wait.

Stan was shaken, but hid it well, when he came back and Ford had to tell him that something wasn’t right. They were both very surprised when the door was thrown open and Dana was wheeled out in her bed. Alex was squeezing her hand as two doctors called out orders and took the new mother away. Ford and Stan hurried close behind, but were stopped at a different door.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but only the father is allowed with the mother for the C-Section.”

The twins paled. “C-Section?!”

Two hours later, Alex emerged, shaking, but grinning. “They’re… they’re okay. They’re okay.”

“Holy Moses, Lil’Lex, what happened?” Stan said sympathetically.

“It’s… well, why don’t you come in first, then I’ll tell you.” Alex suggested. The pair of men nodded, and were led into a bigger room.

Dana was asleep, apparently on some kind of medicine to help her sleep. There was a special hospital crib next to the big bed. Stan and Ford cautiously approached with Alex, but Ford had to cover his mouth with his six-fingered hand and Stan accidentally let out a long line of swears, making Ford smack him upside the head.

There were two babies. One wore a pink hat, one wore a blue hat, both wrapped in warm blankets, and lying close together. There was a second crib off to the side, but there was no wonder why it wasn’t in use. Twins stick together.

“Mighty Axolotl, thank you.” Ford muttered under his breath. “Alex, they’re beautiful.”

Stan rounded on his nephew and ruffled his fluffy brown hair. “You trying to be a conman like your uncle?”

“Heh, we did decide to take a leaf outta your book, Uncle Stan.” Alex admitted. “We wanted to surprise you both. That’s why things were a bit complicated, but everything worked out. The girl, Mabel, came out first. She kicked the doctor in the jaw.”

“Hah! That’s my girl!” Stan said proudly.

“The boy, Mason, had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Came out blue.” Alex admitted. “He’s okay now, just gave us a scare, but the doctors say he’ll be alright.”

“Thank goodness.” Ford looked down at the baby boy and smiled, truly grateful he was okay, and he thought he could see something poking out of his hat, but it was probably just fuzz.

Alex watched amusingly as the older twins just looked down at the sleeping younger twins. They were smiling so peacefully while their brown eyes were glued hungrily at the newborns. Alex waited for them to ask, but apparently they weren’t going to, so he chuckled warmly, “You know you can hold them too, if you want.”

Ford swallowed. “V-Very well…”

Meanwhile Stan pulled up a chair, sat, and excitedly waited like a child.

Alex scooped up the baby boy and gave him to Stan, who held him like a champ. Then Alex carefully picked up his little daughter and let Ford hold her, who was as stiff as wood and extremely cautious, but after a minute of feeling how peaceful she breathed against him and slept, it was easy to relax.

“Hello,” Ford muttered down at the baby girl, who slept happily.

Stan smiled down at the baby boy, getting strong deja vu from when he held his nephew all those years ago. He noticed something on the baby’s forehead and carefully freed a hand to smooth over his skin, but it wasn’t something that could be wiped away. He gently pushed the tiny blue hat up the small forehead and beamed with pride at the unique birthmark. “Well, look at you, buddy boy. Whatcha hiding that for, ey? That’s pretty special.”

Ford looked down and smiled. “How interesting.”

“Kinda looks like the Big Dipper.” Stan said.

Ford chuckled. “It does.” Something caught his eye, drawing his attention back to the baby girl. She was stirring in Ford’s arms, and soon opened one eye, getting used to the bright world. The scientist held his breath as she looked up at him, and slowly opened her other eye, staring up at him with brown eyes that matched his own. “Stanley,” He hissed. “Stanley, he’s looking at me.”

Stan looked and smiled. “She must see something she likes.” He sneered playfully.

Ford smiled warmly down at her. “Hello there, sweetheart. I’m your Great-Uncle Ford, hi.”

Stan snorted and looked down at his new nephew. “That’s too much of a mouthful. You two gremlins just call me your Grunkle Stan, k’?”

~~~~~~~~~~

January 18th, 2001

The phone was ringing. No, maybe Stan had dreamed the phone rang, because when he lifted his head to listen, he couldn’t hear it, so he let his head fall back on his pillow and he began snoring again.

Ford soon opened the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathed deeply to control himself, and then he entered Stan’s bedroom. He stood beside his sleeping brother and squeezed his shoulder. “Stanley. Stanley, wake up please.”

Stan blinked awake, groaned, and turned. “Whatcha want, Sixer?”

“Stanley, please sit up. I need to tell you something.”

That got his attention; how grave Ford’s voice sounded, how serious, how scary and non-urgent it was. This wasn’t an emergency, but it wasn’t good if Ford was waking him up in the middle of the night. Stan sat up and slipped on his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

Ford sat on the bed, facing his twin. He was quiet for a moment, but then began to talk in a melancholy tone. “W-We… um… The…” Ford cleared his throat in a sad attempt to start again. “I need you to, please, be ready to leave for California as soon as you can. W-We should pack for a few days, maybe a week just in case.”

A shiver went down Stan’s spine. “Why?”

Ford took in a deep breath and took off his glasses. That was never a good sign. “Alex and D-Dana went out. Left Mason and Mabel with a neighbor for a date night. I-It was raining…” And Ford was at a loss for words.

Stan sighed tiredly. “They got into a car crash, didn’t they?”

Ford nodded.

Stan clapped his hands on his knees. “Well, we can help ‘em out. Those little guys love us, and we can stay longer than a week to help the love birds recover.”

“Stanley… they can’t recover.”

That nearly made Stan’s heart stop. He watched as Ford’s head was hung low, but he could still see how wet his eyes were.

Ford swallowed and croaked out, “They’re gone.”

Stan bit his lip.

Ford turned his head away. “Let’s try to leave within the hour…” He made to move, to attempt to be a man and hide his tears, but Stan wouldn’t let him.

He brought his brother in for a tight, warm hug, and closed his eyes. Ford’s eyes brimmed with tears, and fell when he shut his eyes and buried his face in his twin’s shoulder, but he couldn’t do more than shudder and control his breathing. Stan was still as stone, but a single tear leaked out of one eye, and he let it fall without shame.

~~~~~~~~~~

The nice old lady who had babysat the twins when their parents died kept an eye on them until the uncles arrived, coming just as quickly as they did the day they heard the niblings were being born.

When Ford and Stan arrived at their dead nephew’s house and made a short journey to the one next door, crying disturbed their ears. The frail old lady sighed sadly and explained to the men, “I’ve tried everything for her. Bless her heart, she’s fine, but she misses her parents.”

When the old lady shuffled away to find her spare key for Alex and Dana’s house, Stan and Ford went to see their niece and nephew, the pair in a bassinet in the living room. Soft music played on a record-player, but they were deaf to it. Poor Mabel was crying her little heart out, wailing as hot tears streamed her red cheeks. Mason was by her side, holding her hand as his bottom lip trembled, trying to help his sister but having no idea how.

Stan noticed this and smiled down at the six-month-olds. He ruffled the brown fuzz on top of Mason’s head and cooed, “Hey there, gremlins. Remember us? C’mere, pumpkin, let’s see if we can’t make you feel better, ey?” Stan carefully picked Mabel up and Mason let go of her hand, his bottom lip still shaking with emotion.

Poor Mabel still cried just the same, but Stan was patient and even smiled at her stubbornness. Ford watched, intrigued, as Stan cradled the baby girl in his muscular arm, ran a finger down her button nose a few times, slowly, and breathed deeply. By the time he ran his finger down her nose the third time, Mabel had stopped crying, curious, and then yawned, turning towards his chest and clinging onto his red Hawaiian shirt.

“There we go, better?” Stan asked. Whimpering from the bassinet made Stan chuckle and he reached a strong arm down for his nephew. “Don’t think I forgot about you, Lil’Dipper. I gotcha.”

“How did you do that?” Ford whispered as Mabel snuggled against his chest and Mason calmed down the second he was in Stan’s embrace.

The businessman shrugged. “I dunno, it worked for Alex when he got fussy and it worked on one of Soos’ cousins at Thanksgiving last year.”

Ford smiled and patted his shoulder. “Well you’ve always had a way with children, Stanley.”

“You’ll get the hang of it, Sixer, don’t worry.” Stan assured, but he was suspicious when he saw a new expression on Ford’s face. “Well we are taking them home with us.” You would think they had this conversation on the long car-ride, but the drive had been dead silent as the cold reality had set in.

“Stanley, no.” Ford said firmly, looking away. “We can’t.”

“Have you lost your mind, cuz I’ll help you find it!” Stan scolded. “Why in the world wouldn’t we take them home?!”

“W-... I… I w-... It’s not a good idea.” Ford stuttered, finally looking at his brother again. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I want to! And you would be brilliant at it, Stanley! But… But they would be b-... I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be any good at it.”

“You were fine at the hospital!”

“That was different! Gravity Falls is too dangerous. I hate to say it, but they…”

“Then don’t say it.” Stan growled warningly. He calmed down a little, and then said with the kind of authority that made his word final, “Listen, we’re family; wherever we go, we go together. If they didn’t come home with us, where would they go? Everyone’s gone, so they’d go in the system, and you and I have both heard the horror stories. Best case scenario they would be separated, and that’s the best case scenario. They aren’t going in the system. They’re coming home.

“And what’s all this talk about you not being good enough for them?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard you say some stupid sh-stuff! They need you, and you need them. And honestly, if these kids are anything like us, I’m more worried about the town surviving than I am of them being okay.”

Ford snorted and bit his lip, smiling down at the pair of babies.

“It’ll work out, Sixer, just you wait and see.” Stan reassured and handed Mabel to him, despite the frantic look on Ford’s face and the fact that he was shaking his head “no”.

Mabel hadn’t really fallen asleep; she was merely resting against Stan’s body. Now she grabbed Ford’s black sweater tightly and nuzzled her chubby cheeks into the yarn. She smiled at the soft touch. Ford held his breath, waiting for Mabel to start crying again, but she didn’t. He took in a few breaths and adjusted his hold so she was cradled more comfortably. The scientist smiled down at her and found all of his troubles were a bit less troubling.

“And no offense, Brainiac, but I don’t give a… gnome’s butt what you say.” Stan injected; he was really going to have to work on his swears. “I’m going to the courthouse before we leave town and I’m adopting these gremlins.”

“What?!” Ford looked back up at him in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Stan had a very serious look on his face that Ford had only seen on rare occasions. “I ain’t risking some distant cousin or whatnot deciding I ain’t good enough, or the system deciding to take ‘em. They’re my kids…”

“I want to adopt them with you.” Ford interrupted, his voice lighter than it had been all conversation.

Stan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I want to.” Ford said earnestly, looking back down at Mabel. The second Stan mentioned the possibility of them going away again, Ford’s heart broke. He couldn’t do it. Not if his life depended on it. He couldn’t let his children go. “Y-you’re right. I can’t… I can’t lose…” And he bit his lip and cleared his throat. “You were right, Stanley.”

“Heh. A broken clock is right twice a day.” Stan quoted and let Mason hold his finger as he held him in his arms. “Trust me. We’ll be okay.”

And Ford nodded, putting all of his trust in his family.

~~~~~~~~~~

“SIXER! C’MERE!”

Ford jumped up from his desk, knocking his chair to the floor, and sprinted down the hall for the living room, where he was certain his brother was yelling from. He stood at the doorway to find Mabel standing thanks to the help of the couch, a chubby hand on the cushion, and Dipper on his hands and knees beside her. Stan was sitting on the floor just two feet away from the toddlers and grinned at his brother. “Mabel almost took her first steps!”

“Really?!” Ford gasped happily and stepped into the room to watch.

“C’mere, pumpkin!” Stan cooed and waved his hands to himself. “Come to Grunkle Stan, c’mere!”

Mabel giggled and bounced on her knees, but still didn’t step to him. Stan even clapped one or twice to grab her attention, but all that made her do was let go of the couch to clap, but she was more than capable of standing on her own.

“Go on, sweetie, you can do it.” Ford encouraged.

At last Mabel seemed to notice that her other great-uncle was present. She turned and smiled a big smile at him, showcasing her new baby teeth, and surprised everyone when she turned and ran to Ford. Mabel might have tripped and fallen on her baby butt, but that didn’t stop her from giggling and reaching out for Ford, who instantly scooped her up while Stan stood, laughing.

“Mabel, you can walk! Clever girl, clever girl!” Ford praised.

“That’s our girl!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was on the floor of the living room a few days later, playing with Dipper and Mabel, building block towers. The door opened and closed and a booming voice called, “Where’s my troublemakers, ey?!”

The babies squealed and giggled and had a little race, crawling as fast as they could to the hall where Stan stood with groceries in his arms, but he sat the food on the floor to have free hands for his kids, and he scooped them up and scratched their chubby cheeks with his stubble.

“Hey there, kiddos? Been good for Grunkle Ford? No? Good!”

Ford rolled his eyes as he picked up the groceries. “They were as good as gold.”

“Eh, I guess that’s okay.” Stan smiled at Dipper, who was reaching for his glasses, and said, “Hi.”

Dipper smiled. “Hi!”

Ford did a double take as Stan laughed proudly and squeezed his nephew.

~~~~~~~~~~

From first steps to first words to first birthdays, the pair of old explorers were there for everything and couldn’t believe their luck. Pretty soon they were taking the children on safe adventures with them, fishing and hiking, and teaching them everything from Cowls to how to hot-wire cop cars. For eight years their lives were complete and things were too good to be true.

But then Stan went missing. At first Ford wasn’t too worried, only mildly annoyed, but to be fair they had a disagreement recently and Stan was a grown man, so maybe he needed to blow off steam. But then days went by. This was extremely unlike Stan, and there were some people that would want him gone, so without scaring the children too much, he began searching for his twin, definitely not freaking out.

#GF #gravity falls #fanfiction #mystery skulls #stangst

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soyouthinkucanwrite · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 - Show Time

2.8k words

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Chapter 4 - A new day

No extra warnings. A lot of it was adapted from the real interview, so you might wanna watch it again before reading this, for refreshing. The docu-series doesn't have a name, so you can imagine your own favorite subject.

HEY THERE EVERYBODY! MY NAME IS TOM HANKS AND IT IS MY GREAT PLEASURE TO SAY WELCOME TO THE GRAHAM NORTON SHOW!

You walked down the corridor led by the stage assistant, but you could already hear the cheering and claps close by. “Don’t worry. There’s a monologue and then he’ll introduce you guys.” She smiled at you. You smiled back. Nervous smile.

“I think I need to poo.” You said.

“What?” She stopped and looked at you.

“No. I don’t really need to poo. I’m just really nervous.” You said. She definitely thought you were in way over your head.

“Okay, just wait there and you’ll go on stage when he calls your name. Frank is there to signal, don’t worry. Good luck!” She said and turned back running.

“Ok. Thank you!” You shouted after her but she was already gone.

“Shhh!” The other guy with a headpiece, Frank you assumed, shushed you.

“Sorry.” You whispered. You looked to the side and Jake Gyllenhaal and Tom Holland were talking. Jake was taller than you imagined. Tom was shorter.

“Oh don’t worry. You’re the star here, you can do whatever you want to.” An older voice said to you. He was obviously joking. You looked to see Tom Hanks. You smiled and nodded. God, please don’t let me freeze from starstruck now. Please.

“Ehh…” You’re pathetic.

“Hi!” Said Gwyneth Paltrow to everyone in the dark zone, having just arrived after you. Everyone responded excitedly.

“You guys are on. On my mark.” Said Frank pointing to Tom and Jake. They looked at you and said hello but you could barely answer before hearing Graham Norton’s voice going:

HES THE OSCAR NOMINATED STAR OF BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, NIGHTCRAWLER, AND DONNIE DARKO. PLEASE WELCOME JAKE GYLLENHAAL!

And Jake went up the small flight of stairs. The curtains opened for a while and the sound got really loud and everything went bright. You took a look at Tom Holland and boy was he hot. He was looking at you too. You smiled and he smiled back.

HE’S YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDER-MAN. IT'S MISTER TOM HOLLAND!

“See you out there.” He said and walked out. You barely had time to process anything when Frank pointed at you and said: “You’re next”. You were still trying to remember how to walk when you heard:

SHE’S THE PRODUCER AND STAR OF A BRAND NEW NETFLIX DOCU-SERIES. STRAIGHT FROM NEW YORK: MISS (Y/N)!

Up you go. You walked out and Graham Norton went to greet you. He went for a kiss on the cheek and you went for a hug. Great. Off to a good start. He laughed it off and showed you the couch where Tom and Jake were standing in front and clapping. You went for a kiss on the cheek this time with both of them when you greeted them.

“Hi!” You said casually. Graham was speaking and soon Gwyneth was standing by your side. She greeted you and the actors by your side and then there was only Tom Hanks left. His introduction was longer and the cheering was way louder. But you weren’t surprised by that. This place was massive. There are so many people here. Way more than you’d think by watching from home.

“We met backstage.” Tom Hanks said pointing to the other guests on the couch.

“You all chatted backstage. I went backstage, I didn’t see the two of you. Nor you (y/n). Where were you guys?” Graham asked.

“We were there” Jake said.

“We waived” Tom said.

“Yeah, I- I was late.” You said laughing a little.

“Very suspicious. I bet you were having your own private party with your entourage.” Graham said making everyone laugh.

“Welcome all! Welcome all!” Graham went on to start the round of interviews and apparently, Tom Hanks was the first topic. You just smiled and laughed along, copying the way Gwyneth Paltrow was sitting and concentrating to keep your posture straight. Once in a while you would laugh and moment by moment you were getting more relaxed, even touching thighs with Tom accidentally when you laughed.

…

“I started recording Woody in 1991.” Tom Hanks said.

“Guess who wasn’t born then?” Graham said and both you and Tom raised our arms laughing.

“I was having sex I think, by 1991.” Gwyneth said.

“And so were our parents.” Said Tom gesturing between you and him. Everybody laughed.

“He probably meant his mom and his dad and my mom and my dad. Separately.” And everyone laughed even harder.

“Ok. We painted a picture now.” Graham said.

“You never know, it was a crazy time back then in 91” Jake added making everyone bust out laughing.

…

“Now, our newest guest tonight is the beautiful (y/n). This is your first time in the show!” Graham said looking at you. Oh boy. This is it.

“Yeah! This is crazy. Thank you for having me! And my first time in London!” You answered, blushing a little by the claps and cheering from the audience.

“Now, of course, (y/n) you’re the star and the producer of a documentary. The new Netflix series everybody is talking about. Have you guys seen it?” He asked the other guests.

“Absolutely! It's so good! I loved it!” Tom Hanks said. You stared at him like he just said the most absurd thing, and then Gwyneth said:

“We loved it! It's so different from everything we’ve seen out there.” She complimented you. You put your hands together and bowed your head in gratitude.

“I started watching it today when I knew you were coming here, but everybody is talking about it! It's so good! I wanted to binge-watch everything but then we had to come here.” Jake said.

“Own! Thank you, that’s very sweet.” You said.

“What about you Tom Holland? Have you seen it? Or have you guys met before? Because you have the same age, isn’t that right?” Graham asked him, pointing between the two of you.

“I was the one who told Jake to watch it! I must have seen it twice already!” He said laughing.

“What? Twice?” You laughed.

“Yeah because every time someone’s watching it if I’m passing by, I’ll just sit down and watch along. And all my friends decided to watch it now, it’s like some fever, I don’t know, it’s just really fun and you actually feel smarter binging it!” He said making everybody laugh along.

“But did you guys knew each other already? Because you sure sound like a fan!” Graham teased him. Tom shook his head no and you answered first.

“No…well, I know you. I definitely know all of you. But we’ve never met.” You said vaguely, trying to change the focus from you and Tom. But Graham was on a mission.

“Are you sure? Because the two of you weren’t seen early on backstage so I’m just wondering…” He said cheekily.

“I was late today! It was quite not British of me, I know, but we were very late so I didn’t get the chance to say hello before. Sorry, everyone” You said apologizing to everybody on the couch who waived and laughed politely.

“That’s quite alright. Thankfully you’re not British so we won’t punish you. Well, maybe we’ll leave that to Tom later if you’re into that sort of thing” Graham said making you and Tom very much embarrassed.

“These 90’s kids are crazy man” Jake added making everybody laugh.

“Anyway, we have a clip for you guys.” Graham announced.

[CLIP FROM THE SERIES]

“That’s so great! By the way, I introduced you saying ‘from new york’, because the show was taped there, but you’re not really from NY are you? You’re actually…uh… from (your city/country)! Is that right?” Graham asked you and the rest of the cast looked at you interested.

“Yes! That’s right. But I’ve been living in New York for a good while now so, that’s ok.” You answered.

“You’re getting your PhD, isn’t it?” Tom Hanks asked you.

“Yes, the show was part of my research, actually. I’m surprised you know that.” You said.

“Dude, I told you to pick up a book once in a while. Jake said teasingly to Tom, who just laughed and shook his head looking down.

“You guys are making this so much easier to me. Thanks!” He said sarcastically. Now it was your turn to get embarrassed.

“He’s right though, you might wanna step up your game here cause she’s both smart and beautiful. Do you speak…how many is it? 5 languages?” Graham stepped in.

“Well, I mean…sort of, yeah. I guess.” You answered kind of embarrassed for being in the spotlight, but glad it was about your brains and not looks.

“And the show is so good! I’ve seen a critic saying that is (your reference) meet Humans of NY. In a good way! Where the idea came from? Did you always wanted to film a tv show?” Graham asked you.

“Well, first of all. Thank you for the compliments and I’m truly honored by the comparison to (your reference) and Humans of NY, because I truly watch and admire those projects, so they’ve definitely inspired us. But uh…about filming a TV show, I guess not. I’m researching (your subject of preference). But I’ve always loved to, you know, get in there and get ‘my hands dirty’, I wouldn’t want to write about something I haven’t experienced. So I got to know so many incredible stories and amazing people. I followed their routines and there were so many great plots…I just couldn’t let that go. And I’m really glad I didn’t. It’s like we’re highlighting the extraordinary in the ordinary. I’m really glad people liked it as much as I did because it would have been really heartbreaking if nobody cared, I guess.” You laughed. Everyone was staring at you in awe. You got really excited when you were talking about this project. Maybe a little too excited.

“How did you do that by the way?” Gwyneth asked you.

“Did what?” you said.

“Get them to care about it. To give it a shot.” She explained.

“I’m not sure. I think there’s so much noise out there. And everyone is just competing for our attention, but they don’t always have anything to say. And these people have so much to say. To teach us. I just tried to show that.” You answered honestly.

“Well, thank you for that. And not jinx anything, but I have a feeling we’ll be hearing a lot more about you too. Any new projects coming soon?” He asked you.

“Uh…not really. I’m just living in this high for now, I guess. But it really has already opened so many doors, I’m very grateful for that.” You answered honestly.

“And your boyfriend must be really proud too" Graham asked teasingly.

“No, no boyfriend.” You answered suspiciously.

“Ah! Of course.” He winked nothing discreetly in Tom’s direction.

“So there’s a chance Tom! You might want to pay attention to this next one. Gwyneth Paltrow! What is this I hear about vagina steaming?” Graham continued making everyone bust out laughing.

…

The show went on and soon, the topic was Tom again. “I was making a film with Doug Liman, in Montreal. And I was playing a real tough kid and he asked me to grow as much facial hair as I could.” Tom told everybody. You just looked very closely at him, because his face was very much hairless.

“I think we got a picture.” Graham said. And then everybody was laughing out loud.

“(y/n)? Is your heart won yet?” Graham teased. You just laughed.

“Oh come on! The kid’s got better moments! You got to give him a chance!” He teased some more.

“Oh man! What is going on with this show? I swear I did not put him up to this!” Tom said looking at you and you just laughed awkwardly.

“It’s true! I did!” Jake said laughing and then got up to high five Graham.

“You know, if this wasn’t going so badly I’d ask if my mom put you up to this. Cause she’s the only other person I know who’s so focused on getting me matched.” You teased.

“You think its going badly?” Tom asked and the crowd “aww” loudly. Silence and some laughs.

“Right, moving on.” Graham joked and everybody laughed. You were feeling a little awkward, especially because you did not want him to think you weren’t interested, just not while in a tv show. But you can’t get things mixed up. This stuff is new to you, but you’re not some schoolgirl. Focus on the job. Stormzy was singing now, so the show must be almost over.

…

“Oh this is wicked! I was really happy when I saw you’d be here!” Stormzy said when he sat on the couch.

“Me? Wow! Really?” you asked him, surprised.

“Oh-oh looks like you got competition Tom Holland” Graham joked and Tom just laughed and shook his head.

“Well cause your show is just really cool” He said to me.

“Wow! Thank you for saying that!” You couldn’t believe this, someone from all across the world liked something you did. You’re going to get emotional.

“You know that we live really close to each other?” Tom asked him.

“Is it? Where do you live?” Stormzy answered and the conversation went on.

AND THAT’S IT FOR THE SERIES! IF YOU’D JOIN ME NEXT WEEK FOR A LOOK BACK AT SOME OF THE HIGHLIGHTS OF THE PAST 12 WEEKS. WE’LL BE BACK IN THE AUTUMN, TILL THEN HAVE A GREAT SUMMER! GOOD NIGHT EVERYBODY BYE BYE!

This was becoming routine now, but there’s no other way to describe it other than to say that you loved and hated every minute of it. Well, at least it’s done now. The lights went out and when everybody stopped clapping and cheering the producer approached you guys and said you were taking a picture. Graham went for the back of the couch and everyone snuggled a little closer. Tom put his hand on your thigh and you instinctively looked at it. “Sorry.” He mumbled and took it off. You just smiled and shook your head lightly. After some pictures, you made sure to thank everybody and say how much of a fan of them you are. When it was your turn to talk to Tom he said laughing: “Sorry about that whole thing” You could tell he was uncomfortable.

“No, common! He was playing with us. Well, you more.” You dismissed.

“Yeah! It was fun though. Had a great time, it was great to meet you!” He said politely.

“You too. Love your movies! Can’t wait to see the new one.” You offered and heard someone calling your name.

“Right this way Miss.” The stage assistant called.

“Ok, so…bye! Good luck on growing your facial hair!” What. You. Idiot. He just laughed it off. And touched his chin.

“Right. I’ll try my best. Thank you! Good luck with (your research subject)” He said back.

“Alright, thanks” You had to go, the stage assistant was getting impatient. “Bye Tom.” You offered your hand and he hesitated a bit before taking it and shake.

“Bye (y/n).” He said.

David was already waiting for you down the small flight of stairs. “That was really great! Congratulations!” He hugged you.

“That…wasn’t bad, right?” You said. “I actually had fun.” You completed while you two made your way to the little room where you did your makeup and hair earlier.

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland series #tom holland x fem #tom holland smut #jake gyllenhaal #graham norton #tom holland imagine

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mysticalmusicwhispers · 4 years ago

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#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓.

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid.

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip.

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

#i was thinking about a lot of this when writing the zine fic so this post is partially an extension of that #hws china #aph china #musings #hetalia #nation lore #hws #aph #aph china headcanons #hetalia worldbuilding #headcanon musings #hetalia headcanons #I GUESS??

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livvyofthelake · 3 years ago

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what you bitches didn’t understand tho is that’s it’s literally about how it becomes impossible to hate yourself in true love. love for the other person who in turn loves you bleeds into loving yourself… if they are so good and they believe you, at your worst, at your dirtiest, at your most raw and real and true moments, are deserving of their love, then you must deserve it…. and you must be good too…. love for someone else and love for yourself go hand in hand…

anyways this is about call me by your name and i’m very sorry to do this to you all (i really did intend to make this post when i finished the movie last night and no one was online. alas, the tiredness took over), but i’m going to talk about it now. if this is the first you see of me today i promise i’ll make it up to you later. anyways.

to be clear i am not apologizing for liking a movie that was literally objectively good and that i enjoyed. i’m apologizing because i know everybody on here hates it (nevermind the fact half of you have never seen it). sorry that if you actually watch a move you only dislike because of online discourse you might actually enjoy it. sorry that once you remove the idea of assigning morality to media it’s harder to justify hating something solely on the grounds of it being problematic. i’m actually not sorry about anything to be real i said it before only as a show <3 i was faking remorse there sorry

anyways. let’s address the elephant in the room. to begin, sometimes you just have to see something in a story and go “well that could be weird if it happened in real life!” and then let it go. sometimes you just have to see a Problematic thing and go “well this writer is a freak!” and then move on. a movie rated R is not meant to be seen by young impressionable kids with zero media literacy skills, most people watching call me by your name are adults with the ability to say “well. that’s weird!” and then move on. it’s so simple guys. furthermore i think there is a very real difference between 1) a textually loving and nurturing relationship between a phd student and a teenager who are in many ways peers, and 2) let’s say. a teenager and their teacher who textually does not care about the teenager beyond their body. and we didn’t do mass discourse about archie and miss grundy. we said “that’s fucked up” and we moved on. and then we all cheered when she got murdered.

to be quite honest with you the most problematic thing about this story is that the author of the book literally wrote a sequel. to the story about fleeting and ephemeral love. worse, he wrote it after the movie was popular. that more than anything else is problematic tbh. also i don’t want to know anything about the author of the book or anything that happens in the book that they may have changed or anything ever about the guy who wrote this story. i think he’s a freak probably. and i’d prefer to just sit with a movie that i enjoyed instead of ruining it with something weird that may have happened in its source material. this is also why i will never read stephen king’s it.

actually i just remembered that apparently they almost had sam taylor johnson directing this. now THAT would have been unforgivably bad and problematic! imagine the timeline where that happened! be grateful we don’t live there.

anyway now let’s address the other elephant in the room. we’re all thinking it. the title is corny… the concept of that is unbelievably cringe! well thats what i thought too! and then! you may recall the original paragraph of this post, the one about how love for another bleeds into love for yourself? it’s okay if you don’t remember that was a lot of words ago. but yeah. that’s the point. that’s the Point! “call me by your name and i’ll call you by mine”! i wish you could see yourself the way i see you! i wish i could see myself the way you see me! i wish our love for each other was strong enough to make us better and fuller people! hello??? i can’t even get into it

and furthermore. you knew this about me already probably. i think timothee chalamet is SO neat. i like that guy a great deal. and i think he’s a wonderful actor <3 clearly good enough to make me able to tolerate armie hammer. because yeah, those posts from last night were about armie hammer. man’s got bad vibes there’s not much else to say. you know he improvised oliver kissing elio’s foot. i wish i didn’t know that. fuck the trivia page on imdb for saying that…

so like yeah. nice movie. good movie. i enjoyed it. i’m not gonna be adding it to my favorites or thinking about it for days or anything. but it was nice <3 might even watch it again! i don’t think it was as good as after we collided but certainly it was better than twilight breaking dawn. and in terms of movies about snapshot relationships? not as good as spontaneous. but much better than say. something borrowed. a movie i was conned into for love of ginnifer goodwin and i’m still mad about it. you wanna talk about problematic movies? let’s talk about THAT movie. that one didn’t even give me any cool Movie Moments for my troubles damn.

but also i’m going to be embarrassed for the rest of my life that call me by your name made me cry real genuine tears but i still think brokeback mountain is mid. i actually am sorry about that one. maybe i’ll give that movie another chance soon. but to be real i don’t see myself changing on that front.

also i would rather die than be associated with the Fans of this movie. those people are annoying and this was obviously the first and potentially only movie about gay people they ever saw. like grow up and watch rocketman.

anyway i think that’s all that needs to be said. you can ask me to elaborate but remember that if you ask me about the movie, i will have to talk about the movie. and think really hard if you want to have discussions about the movie.

ok love and light xoxo

#anyway the moral of the story is that i’m not assigning a moral to the story because we are adults and you can figure that shit out yourself #and maybe if we didn’t hate movies based solely on whether buzzfeed has called them problematic. we’d be way more normal.#please learn to think for yourself. i’m saying this as someone who until recently bought into the Discourse over this movie.#beth.txt

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atlafan · 4 years ago

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Tell Me I’m The Only One - Part One - Teaser

“You know what classes I’m taking?”

“Of course I do. I’d be stupid not to look into the person I’m going to be working with. Even though I’m not your graduate advisor, I hope you know I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need. Are you coming right from undergrad, or did you take some time off?”

“It’s been a few years since I’ve been in school. I’m twenty-five.”

“Sometimes it’s good to take some time off, figure out what you want to focus on. What exactly are you hoping to get out of a graduate film program?”

“I want to write high-level film reviews. I was hoping to make a video series, but it’s really tough to build a base on YouTube. I got discouraged.”

“If you ever want me to watch what you have out there already, I’d be more than happy to.”

“Sure, that’d be great. So, uh, where will my office be?”

“Oh, honey, did you think you were getting your own office?” She can’t help but giggle. “We’re not in the science building, GA’s don’t get their own offices over here.”

“How will students meet with me if they have questions?”

“They won’t need to meet with you, you’re not teaching.”

“But I’ll be grading, what if a student wants to question me on a grade?”

“Then they can come to me.” She shrugs.

“Dr. Robertson, where am I supposed to get my own work done?”

“Mi oficina es tu oficina.” She smiles. “You can work in here any time you like. I actually have a key for you.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a key. “Here you go, don’t lose that.”

“What if you’re meeting with a student?”

“As you can see, we have a lovely lounge at the end of the hall, you can go there and set up shop if you need to. You’re a GA, Mr. Styles, pay your dues. Now, here are my syllabi, and you should have gotten an email stating that you’ve been given access to all my courses. There are rubrics for all of the assignments as well, as long as you follow those you should have no problem grading.”

“Alright.” Harry takes the different sheets of paper from her, catching sight of the ring on her finger. “Are you married?” He wasn’t quite sure why he asked, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Hm? Oh, no.” She laughs. “Just engaged.” She extends her hand to look down at her ring. “Been engaged for over a year, we can’t seem to decide on a date. My fiancé is a lawyer, and a highly sought after one at that.”

“Why not just pick a random day to go to a courthouse?”

“Well, we both have big families, and we don’t want to disappoint any of them.” She sighs. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out at some point. Neither of us are really in a rush. We’ve been together five years, it’ll happen when it happens.” She studies Harry for a moment. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have anyone special?”

“Oh!” Harry’s cheeks redden. “Um, no…nothing serious, anyways.”

“Maybe you’ll meet someone here. You should go to the GA meetings, meet others doing what you’re doing.”

“I’m living with three other GA’s, we’re getting along pretty well so far. But I’ll definitely check out when those meetings are.”

“Good.” She smiles.

“May I ask how old you are? You seem so accomplished, I mean…look at all of the degrees and certificates you have.” Harry motions to the various frames on the walls.

“Some of those are just recognition certificates. I’m twenty-eight. I did a 4+1 program to get my master’s so I could zip right along into a PhD program. I was lucky enough that I was hired on full-time after getting it. The department really values me.”

“That’s awesome.” Harry smiles. “Anything else you’d like me to know about your classes?”

“Not at the moment. Would you be comfortable giving me your cell number? Anything I can do to have less emails, you know?”

“I don’t mind.” Harry smiles again and takes out his phone, handing it to her.

“Thanks, it’ll be much easier to tell you if something changes last minute this way.” She texts herself before handing him back his phone.

“Your fiancé won’t mind you texting me?” Harry asks playfully, warming up to her a bit more.

“No, why would he? We’re not one of those couples who reads each other’s texts. My phone is my property just as his phone is his property. We trust each other.” She rests her elbows on her desk, putting even more of her cleavage on display for him without realizing it. “Besides that, I’m not trying to start an affair with my GA who should be very careful about flirting with me so that he doesn’t end up on some very thin ice.”

“I…I…I wasn’t-“

“You were being cheeky with me.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a smug smile sets on her lips. “I like to tease, Mr. Styles, you can relax your shoulders now.”

“I think it’s going to take me some time to get used to your sense of humor.” Harry says with a relaxed sigh.

“Well, you’re stuck with me for an entire year, so you’ve got plenty of time to figure me out. Now, if you don’t have any other questions, you can go on and enjoy the rest of your day.” She stands back up. “I need to continue organizing my books, and the rest of this mess.” Harry nods and stands up.

“It was nice to meet you. You know you can just call me Harry, right?”

“Sure.” She smiles. “I prefer to be called Dr. Robertson in the classroom, when we’re not in there you can just call me Casey.”

“Okay.” Harry smiles.

“Oh, wait! Are you free the day before classes start? I was hoping to take you to lunch as a sort of good luck thing.”

“I can definitely do lunch the day before classes start.”

As Harry walks back to his apartment, he can’t help but think about how cool Casey is. She’s a bit frazzled, yes, but she seems like someone Harry will be able to easily work with. At least he wouldn’t have to kiss the ass of some stuffy old professor. Casey’s ass is one Harry wouldn’t mind kissing, but she had a fiancé to take care of that for her. He had to admit, Casey was insanely attractive, but he’d politely just admire her from afar and respect that she was very much a taken woman. Besides that, it would be incredibly inappropriate to even try to start something up with the professor he was GA’ing for. No, he’d keep things professional. He wasn’t even looking for someone to be with right now anyways. If he felt the need to hook up with someone, he could either head down to the bars or download Tinder.

[COMING TO PATREON ON SATURDAY, JUNE 5TH @ 8AM EST]

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #GA!Harry #garry

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comrade-meow · 4 years ago

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This is a transcript of a speech by developmental biologist Dr Emma Hilton delivered on 29 November 2020 for the ‘Feminist Academics Talk Back!’ meeting. This talk was originally published by womentalkback.org

Sex denialists have captured existing journals We are dealing with a new religion

Thank you for the invitation to speak today, as a feminist academic fighting back.

As ever, let’s begin with a story. And, trust me, by the end of this talk, you’re going to know a lot more about creationism that you expected:

1. In the 1920s, in concert with many other American states, the Tennessee House of Representatives passed the Butler Act, making it illegal for state public schools to: “teach any theory that denies the Story of the Divine Creation of man as taught in the Bible.” In other words, banning schools from teaching the theory of evolution.

Three months later, Tennessee science teacher John Scopes was on trial, charged with teaching the theory of evolution, a crime he was ultimately found guilty of. He was fined £71 – about £1064 in today’s money – so it could have been an expensive affair for him, had he not got off on a really boring administrative technicality.

Yet, despite the evidence against him and his own confession, he was an innocent man. Scopes was not guilty of teaching the theory of evolution. He admitted to a crime he had not committed. He even coached his students in their testimonies against him. So why would he admit to this wrongdoing of which he was entirely innocent? Why would he contrive apparent guilt? In protest. In protest against a law he viewed as fundamentally incompatible with the pursuit of scientific truth.

2. The history of creationism and education laws in the US is turbulent and often opaquely legalese, especially for those of us unfamiliar with US law. Some of the methods of the wider creationist movement, however, will be immediately recognisable as they are employed by a new movement, one which seeks to erase another scientific truth, the fact of sex.

Method 1. The framing of human classifications, whether it’s species or sex, as “arbitrary”. This leads to the premise that such phenomena are “social constructs” that need not exist if we chose to reject them. That truth must be relative and consensual. Never mind that these “arbitrary” classifications appear to be surprisingly similar classifications across all cultures and civilisations.

It also necessarily spotlights tricky boundary cases – not really a personal problem for the long-dead evolutionary missing links, but a very real problem in the modern world for people whose sex is atypical and who are constantly invoked, even fetishized, as “not males” or “not females” to prove sex classification is somehow no more than human whimsy.

People with DSDs have complex and often traumatic medical histories, perhaps struggling to understand their bodies, and they deserve more respect than to be casually and thoughtlessly used as a postemodernist “gotcha” by the very people so horribly triggered by a pronoun.

Method 2. The distortion of science and the development of sciencey language to create a veneer of academic rigour. Creationists invented “irreducible complexity” and “specified complexity” while Sex denialists try to beat people over the head with their dazzling arrays of “bimodal distributions arranged in n-dimensional space”.

Creationists, unable to publish in mainstream science journals because they weren’t producing, well, science, established their own journals. “Journals”. Sex denialists have captured existing journals – albeit limited to more newsy ones and to occasional editorials and blogs about gender (which is not sex), about how developmental biology is soooo complicated (which does not mean sex is complicated – I mean, the internal combustion engine is complicated but cars still fundamentally go forwards or backwards), about how discussing the biology of sex is mean (OK, good luck with that at your doctor’s surgery). Many such blogs and articles are written by scientists who simultaneously deny sex to their social media audience while writing academic papers about how female fruitflies make shells for their eggs (no matter how queer they are), about the development of ovaries or testes in fish and about how males make sperm.

The current editor-in-chief at Nature, the first female to hold this position, studied sex determination in worms for her PhD, and she now presides over a journal with an editorial policy to insert disclaimers about the binary nature of sex into spotlight features about research on, for example, different death rates in male and female cystic fibrosis patients.

The authors of the studies are not prevaricating or handwaving about sex, but the editorial team is “bending the knee”. I used to research a genetic disorder that was male-lethal – that is, male human babies died early in gestation. I’d love to know if this disclaimer would be applied there.

Method 3. Debate strategies like The Gish Gallop. This method is named for Duane Gish, who is a prominent creationist. What it boils down to is: throw any old argument, regardless of its validity, in quick succession at your opponent and then claim any dismissal or missed response or even hesitation in response as a score for your side. In Twitter parlance, we know this as “sealioning”, in political propaganda as the “firehose of falsehood”, although Wikipedia also suggests that it is covered by the term “bullshit”. So, what about intersex people? what about this article? what about an XY person with a uterus? what about the fa’afafine? what about that article? look at this pretty picture. what about what about whataboutery what about clownfish? The aim is not to discuss or debate, it is to force submission from frustration or exhaustion.

Method 4. The reification of humans as separate from not just monkeys but the rest of the living world. The special pleading for special descriptions that frame humans as the chosen ones, such that the same process of making new individuals, common to humans and asparagus, an observation I chose because it seems superficially silly – it could have been spinach – requires its own description, one that accounts for gender identity.

3. In the Scopes trial, which saw discussion of whether Eve was actually created from Adam’s rib and ruminations on where Cain got his wife, Scopes was defended by a legal group who had begun scouting for a test case subject as soon as the Tennessee ban was enacted. This legal group claimed to advocate for:

“Freedom of speech for ideas from the most extreme left such as anarchists and socialists, to the most extreme right including the Ku Klux Klan, Henry Ford, and others who would now be considered more toward the Fascist end of the spectrum.”

The legal group so keen to defend the right to speak the truth, in this case a fundamental, observable scientific truth? The American Civil Liberties Union, a group whose modern day social media presence promotes nonsense like:

“The notion of biological sex was developed for the exclusive purpose of being weaponized against people.”

and

“Sex and gender are different words for the same thing [that is] a set of politically and socially contingent notions of embodied and expressed identity.”

and shares articles asserting that biological sex is rooted in white supremacy.

Since the Scopes case, the ACLU have fought against many US laws preventing, or at least compromising, the teaching of evolution. I cannot process the irony of a group of people historically and consistently prepared to robustly defend the truth of evolution while now denying one of the most important biological foundations of evolution.

4. How do we fight this current craze of sex denialism? A major blow for creationism teaching was delivered in 1986 while the US Supreme Court were considering a Louisiana state law requiring creationism to be taught alongside evolution. The Louisiana law was struck down, in part influenced by the expert opinions, submitted to the court, of scientists who put aside their individual and, as one of them has since described “often violent” differences on Theory X and Experiment Y, to present a unified defence of scientific truth over religious belief. 76 Nobel laureates, 17 state academies of science and a handful of scientific organisations all got behind this single cause, and made a very real change.

Support for creationism has slowly ebbed away and the US is in a much more sensible position these days, although I still meet the occasional student from a Southern state who didn’t learn about evolution until college.

Sadly, one of the Nobel laureates has highlighted how unusual this collective response was and that he could not imagine any other issue that would receive the same groundswell of community support. Although he forged his career listening out for the Big Bang, so maybe I need to go through the list and find the biologists.

Part of the problem petitioning biologists to speak out is not necessarily fear of being cancelled or whatever, but simple lack of awareness of the issue, or incredulity that it is being taken remotely seriously. I’ve been working on a legal document and was discussing with a colleague about my efforts to find a citation for the statement, “there are two sexes, male and female”. He laughed at the idea that this would require a citation, told me to check a textbook, then realised that this statement is so simple that it would not even be included in a textbook.

And he’s right. I can find chapters in textbooks and hundreds of academic papers dedicated to how males and females are made, how they develop, how they differ, yet very few that feel the need to preface any of this with the statement “There are two sexes, male and female”. It is apparently something that biologists do not think needs to be said.

But of course, I think they are wrong, and that we live in a time where it does need to be said, where some aspects of society are being restructured around a scientific untruth, and where females will suffer.

Without recognition of and language to describe our anatomy, and the experiences that stem from that anatomy, mostly uninvited, we can neither detect nor measure things like rates of violence against women, the medical experiences, the social experiences of women and girls.

And, as for creationism, the reality of sex perhaps needs to be said by those with scientific authority, in unambiguous terms. Otherwise, we are living in a society that tolerates nonsense like there is no such thing as male or female, that differences evident to our own eyes are not real, that anatomies readily observable and existing in monkey and man alike do not actually exist. I’m sure this last assertion has the full support of the creationist community. And perhaps, as for creationism, a true tipping point will be tested when it is our children being taught these scientific untruths, or worse, when it is illegal to say different.

5. At the end of his trial, the only words Scopes uttered in court were these:

“Your honor, I feel that I have been convicted of violating an unjust statute. I will continue in the future, as I have in the past, to oppose this law in any way I can. Any other action would be in violation of my ideal of academic freedom—that is, to teach the truth as guaranteed in our constitution, of personal and religious freedom.”

I do not exaggerate when I say we are dealing with a new type of religion, a new form of creationism and a new assault on scientific truth. I also do not exaggerate when I say it may take a high profile court case to rebalance the public discourse around sex. There is only so far letters and opinion articles can go.

Two things I predict: 1. It will not be defended by the ACLU, and 2. With the recent proposals on hate speech law, it will probably involve a Scottish John Scopes, who finds themself in front of a judge for the seditious crime of discussing the sex life of asparagus at their dinner table.

Dr Emma Hilton is a developmental biologist studying aspects of human genetic diseases, and her current research focuses on a congenital motor neurone disease affecting the genitourinary tract, and on respiratory dysfunction in cystic fibrosis. She teaches reproduction, genes, inheritance and genetic disorders. Emma has a special interest in fairness in female sports. A strong advocate for women and girls, Emma tweets as @FondofBeetles.

#Anglo.txt

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7wanderingpaws · 5 years ago

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Simply, yours (10)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 6.5K

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hello, hi! Welcome back! This chapter has a LOT of stuff happening... But at the end of the day, we all want to have a pleasant read, right? I hope you will like this one, I enjoyed writing it a whole lot... 😊💖 Pls let me know what you thought, it helps me so much! Have a good day/night! ^^ Btw what did you think of BBHs cover of BoA? I LOVE IT! Original was already so good and he just made it more speacial by adding his sweet flavor... 💕

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That was what you've been muttering to yourself for the past two hours on your way back home and basically ever since you turned your back on him. Literally. Because you are that bad at controlling your emotions for some reason.

So as a way to punish yourself, you ended up popping into the nearest convenience store to your apartment and getting chocolates and sweet bakery because you… needed it. You had been dying to put something sweet into your mouth, so it could be hardly taken as a punishment, but you did find it as unnecessary expense, plus you were already halfway through looking like an elephant. But wow, what a sucky day, yucks.

It was one thing to be a little jealous about that girl, and a completely different thing to become cold towards Baekhyun and not even tell him what was bothering you. He didn't deserve that and you felt extremely guilty, to the point that you just entered your quiet, loving home and felt like crying like a baby.

Changing into comfy clothes, you didn't even bother with folding them, instead throwing them into the laundry basket, too preoccupied with your own guilt. Plus, your sweat pants felt tighter and uncomfortable around your thighs. How annoying. You needed to spend even more money now for the stupid XXXXXL size that you were slowly becoming.

You could bet that Jiyoung girl had the smallest size waist-

“Ah, stop it!” you shouted into nothing, tired of yourself and the whirlwind of emotions that you became. How was it possible to switch between emotions this fast? Your period wasn't the kindest but thankfully it was rarely painful and you only had terrible cravings instead of mood swings but this pregnancy was too much.

And in that moment, everything was getting on your nerves. You losing your job. You wanting to surprise your boyfriend. Him smiling like that at another woman. Him smiling. Seriously, why was he even smiling?! You weren't even there, so how dared he smile? Oh, and yeah that woman next to your man! You declining his request to stay until he was done. You should have stayed. You should have stayed and support him, enjoy the way he was doing his passion and maybe you would have understood what that Jiyoung girl was doing. Was she even a student?

You sighed. You wouldn't know. If she would have been a student, you didn't think she would dare to come collect him from his girlfriend like that.

You threw yourself into the softness of your pillows, chocolate bar in your mouth as you took a small bite and let your angry tears fall. This was so not you. This wasn't the strong, independent woman and if you would keep up this game, Baekhyun would notice too. He would see the faults in you.

“Stop thinking, you brat,” you warned yourself. “Stop it! Don't think! Just don't!”

And the worst?! You couldn't even touch your bump in that moment, you were that disgusted. It was all fault of the babies; they were making you like this, creating problems where there weren't any!

Before you could wallow even more, your phone rang. Scrambling quickly to get it in hopes to see Baekhyun's photo as your caller ID, you were surprised to see your mother's name dancing on the screen. That could only mean some bad news as you rarely talked. The last time you talked was nearly a month ago when she was checking up on you and your pregnancy and making sure Baekhyun was there for you.

Ignoring the way your hands were shaking, you answered the phone, feeling a bit of adrenaline rush in your blood causing slight dizziness. It'd been a while you felt lightheaded like this.

“Mum?”

“Hi, daughter,” she gasped, her voice gentle as always. “How are you? It's been a month almost, thought I'd check up on you.”

And there it all went. You started to wail at that question right away, unable to bear your mother's gentle voice. You didn't even realize how much you missed having a mother figure in this period of life, when she could give you advice, guidance and especially deep understanding.

“Are you crying?” she quipped, surprised at the sniffles that would soon follow with stifled sobs. “Oh, my, why are you crying? Is it the hormones?”

Well, was it the hormones? you asked yourself, but you were so incredibly clueless and so incredibly frustrated because of everything that you couldn't get a proper reply. “Ye-yes,” you hiccuped as hot tears streamed down your face. It was that type of crying where you just couldn't stop, the hysterical sobs needing to be let out, tears seeming to have an infinite storage somewhere inside of you.

Your mother sighed, but you imagined her affectionate gaze. “I understand. Although I don't know to what extent is having three babies burdening, any pregnancy is extremely difficult on your body, honey. Just let it all out and don't dwell too much on what is the reason. You don't need it now, so just let it out.”

At that you had to hide your face in the pillow and let out a little wail, because her words were warming you up so much, yet she was far away from you. Oh, dear, she had no clue what a rollercoaster of a ride you had put yourself and your boyfriend through, so you basically had every reason to have these feelings. She didn't even know you had been sacked. That was the reason you were crying, right?

“Is Baekhyun there?” your mother kept on going when she knew you wouldn't give her a coherent answer.

You hiccuped again, trying to make your mouth move. “N-no. Wo-worki-ing.”

“It's almost late evening, though,” she muttered to herself.

It was just 6pm, but the elders always had the specialty of saying “it's late in the night” when it was barely 8pm. You tried to smile at her antics, but it was painful. Because your boyfriend wasn't home. He was at that stupid training of his with stupid women that had to take the stupid hapkido class.

“What did you have for lunch-”

“I got sacked today,” you blurted suddenly and sniffed back big time, not even listening to her words.

“What do you mean you got sacked today?”

“Just exactly what I said. I am jobless.”

“How did you get sacked? You were promoted not long ago.”

You let out a loud breath, your lungs aching from all the crying. It just made more tears well up in your eyes again. “I had an idiot of a boss.” You should have definitely said it was all your fault, but currently you were feeling like the biggest loser in the world. “So it was better like this anyway. I can't even do much, soon I will be huge and… useless.”

Your mother tsked disapprovingly as you heard some shuffling in the background. “What is this silly talk, daughter. What did Baekhyun say?”

You gritted your teeth. “Why do you always ask about him?! He was happy I got sacked, okay?”

“Alright, alright, no need to shout at your mother.”

“But I don't want to talk about Baekhyun right now, so stop asking me!”

“Oh, I understand now,” she replied back nonchalantly, and some creaking noise provided just the perfect background. “As long as you think you can manage…”

“Yes, I can manage.”

“You and Baekh-”

“Don't.”

She sighed and you heard fire. She was probably warming up dinner in the kitchen. “Did he do something?”

You opened your mouth to retort but were stopped, because YES was your personal answer but NO was the fact. You wiped your tears quickly. “No. I mean... “ you trailed off and rolled yourself on your back, staring at the ceiling. “No.”

“Well then why are you so sensitive? I am trying to see what is wrong and you clearly have an issue with him. You can tell me honestly. Or don't.”

Just then you heard the code being typed in the entrance door, sign of Baekhyun arriving. You groaned loudly and stood up quickly to close the bedroom door before he could get in and have an easy access to bedroom but it was a wrong idea. Seeing black spots everywhere, you felt like your entire body just gained another 40 kilograms as an invisible weight pulled down on your shoulders making you stumble back into the mattress, the world spinning with along with you rather fast.

“I'll call you back,” you murmured softly into the phone and threw it away into the blanket somewhere, trying to make your head calm down.

Baekhyun called out your name, announcing his arrival but you felt like throwing up. You groaned as quietly as possible, scrunching up your face in hopes of stopping this terrible attack. Cold sweat made its way down your neck and you shivered as you felt a huge bulge in your stomach. But you were so extremely disoriented you could barely open your eyes let alone make it to the bathroom in time.

“Baekhyun,” you called out, “please bring me the bucket from the-” gulp, gulp, gulp.

Baekhyun walked into the bedroom but when he saw you his eyes went wide. “What is wrong? Hey, hey, what's- shit,” he cursed when he heard the familiar noise, and ran to the bathroom to get the little pink bucket as you gagged, trying to get on your fours, looking extremely shaken up. Tears were streaming down your face, your knees and arms trembling violently before you saw two feet clad in white socks and then bucket pushed into your face as Baekhyun reached for you with his other hand to keep your balance up. “Shh, c'mon, let it out. Don't keep it back,” he murmured urgently and sweeped the hair that was plastered to your forehead and cheeks away, noticing the snot and flushed cheeks. Just then, finally, you let it all out. Your throat was on fire but your head kept pulling you in one direction into which you would have easily fell if it weren't for the safety of Baekhyun's arms. “Shh, you're doing well.”

Although not seeing his face, you knew he was tense and probably wondering what made you this terribly sick when food and spit kept constantly coming out until it became just violent gagging, nothing able to come out anymore, only caused by your head spinning so much it triggered your stomach. Wasn't it just today that you were thankful for not having to go through this again?

You calmed down after another couple of minutes, completely spent. “Baekhyun,” you murmured, afraid to open your eyes. He hummed as he took the bucket to the side, and looked at you closely as he brought his other hand to your pale face, wiping the tears away. “I'm very dizzy.”

“Look at me, baby,” he murmured, frowning a little and wanting to check the focus in your eyes.

You shook your head ever so gently before your lower lip trembled. “I can't… please,” you said just as you were about to crash on him again, the invisible pull still there.

“Okay. Lay down for me, can you do that?” he asked gently. “I will help you move now, don't get startled.” And he did so, pushing on your shoulders a bit, helping you lie down. He took all the pillows on the bed and put your head under them, by then knowing very well what to do when you got into this kind of situation. “Keep your head up for me, and your knees too,” he whispered and patted your straightened-out legs. You did as he said and heard him move around the room before he came back with the little machine, pushing your arm through the hole to measure your blood pressure.

“Don't cry, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper as he tried to catch every single teardrop while the machine was working. He looked around for a glass of water which, of course, you didn't have.

“I feel like hell,” you said, your voice raw.

Baekhyun was thankful your eyes were closed, for he didn't want you to witness how worried and scared he was. Yes, you did get dizzy and many times sick, but to this extent? Never. He was already thinking three steps ahead, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Beeping sound brought you back to the reality and Baekhyun checked, murmuring the results out loud, his frown now deep. “We are going to the hospital,” he decided.

“No!” you shouted, opening your eyes to look at him but you almost saw three Baekhyuns. Usually, you wouldn't mind but it made you want to throw up again. You were fast to close them, scrunching your face. “Please,” you sobbed, scared. “Make it stop! But don't call anyone!”

Baekhyun was already calling ambulance, leaving the room in case you would have a tantrum. He knew your blood pressure was skyrocketing and it made him worried sick; he didn't know what to do. Plus, he was told by your doctor that if your blood pressure reaches a certain level, you were eligible to call for ambulance.

As much as he hated you crying and going through this, he was there with you, every single step at a time.

“She will be alright,” said the doctor that was in the emergency room, checking your vitals on his clipboard. “She needs to rest for now, but,” he shook his head gently and looked up at Baekhyun whose eyes were bulging in fear of what was to come. “Her blood pressure was too high. It isn't good for the patient, neither it is good for the pregnancy.”

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Well, it is very likely that she will have to endure this until she gives birth. Triplet pregnancy is a bit different than the usual ones. Since premature birth is highly possible to happen, which also may affect the health of the children, her not monitoring stress levels or taking good care of her body may also influence the health of the kids.” He sighed. “She is bearing a lot right now, so there are high risks of her fainting if this continues. As you told me, she had been struggling with high blood pressure this whole time, correct?”

Baekhyun nodded quickly.

“Well, she is in the fifteenth week which means almost half-way through till due date… It should have subsided by now but we can't do anything to change it; only give medication, unfortunately. Multiples' pregnancy is full of surprises.”

Baekhyun felt so helpless in that moment. Why did he get the feeling the doctor was clueless in a way too?

“Will she survive?” he asked seriously.

The doctor smiled gently. “She is completely healthy, so there is no risk of her losing her life, but this was definitely a dangerous situation. She shouldn't be left alone for too long as this occurs unexpectedly. It is rare anyway to have such strong reaction to high blood pressure, but this is what it takes to live for three more lives, I suppose.”

Oh, how Baekhyun wished he could take at least half of the burden you were bearing.

The doctor patted him twice on the shoulder before leaving. He looked at you, your sleeping figure so peaceful compared to couple of hours ago when you looked white as death and just about to pass out.

Sighing, he reached for your hand, gently squeezing it before murmuring a soft I love you. You were going through all of this because of him. He made you pregnant and now here you were, fighting for four lives: the unborn babies and your own.

His phone vibrating was what interrupted his train of thoughts. Quickly searching for it in his winter jacket, he saw your mother's name flashing on the screen, bad feeling already eating him away. Should he tell her where you were now? He would only make her worried.

“Hello, mother,” he answered, trying to make his voice as normal and even as possible while stroking your knuckles with is thumb.

“Oh, thank God you picked up, Baekhyun! I've been contacting my daughter for the past hour and she wouldn't answer. Are you with her now?”

Gulping, he said: “Yes. She is, uh, sleeping now.”

“Silly girl. I called her earlier today to check up on her and caught her in a bad state of mind,” she explained, her voice sounding exasperated. “She kept crying but wouldn't tell me why. This is none of my business, my dear, but did you two have a fight?”

Surprised was an understatement to Baekhyun. First of all, you didn't necessarily fight, it was your weird mood that created negative tension between you two but it was certainly not a fight; second of all he had no clue you were having such a mood prior to his arrival although he did see your swollen face and eyes. “No, we didn't have a fight. She has been acting strangely today, that is true. She lost her job and maybe the hormones and all…” he trailed off, trying to justify your actions though he himself wasn't sure.

“Yes, she told me she lost her job, but to me it didn't seem like that was her main issue. Let me be honest with you, Baekhyun,” she said and Baekhyun didn't have a good feeling about what was to come. “She didn't even want to hear your name. I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but it would be healthy if you both talk. You know she cannot get this upset while being pregnant. She was choking on her own sobs.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes and left your hand so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Just what the hell was up with you? “She came to visit me at the university today, but she had such a change of mood, mother. I was shocked myself and I try to understand, I really do but it has been difficult recently.” Let alone she was lying to me, he thought but kept quiet.

Your mother sighed again; she trusted Baekhyun and wasn't doubtful about him at all. She also knew what pregnancy mood swings meant, so she was not blaming entirely you just as she knew Baekhyun could have been falsely accused. She knew him ever since he was a baby after all. “I understand, sweetie, and I am not blaming you at all. I will let you rest. I know you also don't have it easy, dear,” she added, affection lacing her voice, “so please I just ask you to have some patience with her for now. She can be a handful.”

“I do, mother, you know I do,” replied Baekhyun right away, looking at your sleeping face. “I can't get mad at her even if I want to.”

At that she laughed. “My sweet boy. I hope I can call you my son-in-law very soon.”

“Actually yes. Sooner than later.”

You found yourself seated on the wooden bench, a book about multiples' pregnancy perched on your thighs while you tried hard not to stare at your boyfriend clad in his hapkido uniform.

He was currently leading his class with Jiyoung, the girl because of whom it all went downwards. Bitterly, you stopped yourself from blaming it on someone like her. It wasn't her fault. Why, you ask? Because…

Few days ago

“Can you explain to me what happened on Monday?” murmured Baekhyun as you were both lying in bed, the dimmed light on his side still on, as he just finished going through his notes from the previous lectures. It made you resent yourself even more knowing how much he had on his plate, yet you couldn't even control your emotions as soon as he stood next to a pretty lady or he looked at you weirdly.

You sighed, rubbing your temple as you were lying on your back. Baekhyun turned his head to look at you, pausing, contemplating. Then, he slowly changed positions, lying on his right side, his hand slowly dragging on the surface of the mattress, reaching your hip and sliding it up over your belly that was sticking out, giving it gentle rubs as he waited patiently for you to talk.

“I won't get mad,” he had the need to add which made you scoff, and him chuckle.

“It's so fucking stupid, Baekhyun, and don't say I can't swear while being pregnant.”

He frowned gently. “Well, it obviously made you upset,” he argued, “so it cannot be fucking stupid.”

He saw you gritting your teeth, and he slid his gaze over your profile, how the light was illuminating the part of your face to which he was turned to. He honestly thought you looked breathtaking and would have kissed you whole night if it weren't for the confusion he was currently feeling. In that moment, he wanted answers more than anything.

“What is Jiyoung-” you trailed off and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow, “to you? To your class? To… hapkido?” Asking, instead of answering him. Great. Although, you weren't expecting silence that followed. You imagined him chuckling at your ridiculousness but he didn't. He didn't and it almost made you lose yourself once again, but he spoke: “She is a master like me,” he spoke softly, and you focused on his warm hand sliding over your belly. You turned your head a little to catch his gaze that was already burning holes on your face. “I didn't tell you until I was sure, which I became on Monday, but then things happened…”

“Sure about what?”

“I am leading the hapkido universiade team with her, but I am the main master,” he revealed, his face still in a gentle frown. “She was assigned to do it together with me, so that is why she was there during practice, too. And she will be from now on until July.”

“But is she like a teacher at Sungkyunkwan or something?”

He shook his head. “She is from Kyunghee university where she is the head of department. There was a joint alliance with them for the hapkido team and also, if we win this, I might have a chance to work with the National team later on,” he explained patiently, not tearing his gaze away from yours.

So many things you were founding out, so many good news. That meant Jiyoung was older than Baekhyun! That was definitely good news! And you ruined it all on Monday and you completely misunderstood the entire situation.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, closing your eyes. Humming in response, he now caressed your cheek, his thumb making slow circles. “I'm so sorry. For being the way I was. What you just said,” you stuttered, opening your eyes, urgency in them, “is all amazing news and I couldn't be any more proud of you.”

“Shh, it's okay, princess,” he whispered, scooting closer to your side.

“No,” you shook your head, “I thought… I was… jealous, so jealous. I shouldn't have let the emotions control me like that. I shouldn't have just left you like that. I apologise,” you said sincerely, staring into his eyes that were now casted in shadow as he was with his back towards the light. Yet, the burning behind his eyes could hardly go unnoticed by you.

“You are so mean when you are jealous,” he blurted, intending to make you chuckle which he succeeded in, but then it disappeared just as quickly and you nudged his cheek with your nose to get more out from him. He sighed, eventually. “You know you can trust me, right? You know I would never want to lose your trust despite you lying to me.”

At that, you whimpered, pouting and widening your eyes at him, still terribly ashamed for what you had done.

“It's okay, I am not holding grudges,” he insisted, “but you know I can't stand you not trusting me, hm? I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and with our kids,” he murmured and at that he caressed the belly yet again as he buried his face in your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine. “So why do I have a feeling you keep doubting me?”

You stiffened, but his caresses didn't cease, which meant he wasn't upset. You raised your hand, playing with his hair as you mumbled: “No, I don't doubt you at all. It's the hormones. It's the babies. You know that before getting pregnant we were just fine.”

“I know,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning the skin on your pulse point, “it is always the babies fault, right?”

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he asked, curious as he pulled back to look at your face.

“Just… I apologise, Baekhyun.”

His eyes searched your gaze. “And I forgive you. But you need to promise me you won't get so worked up over nothing in the future.”

“I won't.”

“By nothing I mean anything. If it isn't a life or death situation, I don't want you to pay it too much attention.”

You watched his mouth move as he spoke, going on about what the doctor said, what the books said about triplet pregnancy, what he thought would be the best for you. And you tried to listen, you really did, but you were head over heels for him; he was mesmerizing and he understood your crazy whirlwind of emotions, and you loved him. So much.

“Are you listening?” he asked, snapping his fingers two times in front of your face. “Young lady, you keep zoning out on me.”

You smiled at his playful manner and he reciprocated the gorgeous grin as he leaned in closer. “I am listening, I am. I just realised once again how much I love you, Baekhyun.”

His grin turned into an affectionate, lopsided smile and he eyed your lips before flicking his orbs back to yours, murmuring your name. “And I love you. Do you understand? I love you. Only you. Can you actually understand?”

“No,” you whispered, dreamy look on your face as you were bewitched by him. He shook his head, and reached for your face, brushing the baby hair out of your forehead. “It's difficult to get it through my thick head that someone like you loves someone like me.”

“How would I make you understand then?”

“Show me. I want you to kiss me, it's been too long.”

He leaned in more, his eyes constantly flicking between your lips and your eyes as he muttered with narrowed eyes: “You're horny again, aren't you?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you sneaked your hands around his neck, bringing him closer. “For you? Always.”

He chuckled just as he kissed you, smiling widely into your mouth before playing with your lower lip, going straight for a gentle bite that he knew would ignite the fire in you.

“Are we doing another make-up sex?” he murmured between kisses, slowly climbing over you and you gladly widened your legs for him.

“Uh-uh, you're making love to me because you need to show me you love me.”

He kissed your neck, laughing quietly. “You're shameless.”

“So are you. Now, do your magic, honey.”

And now here you were, as per his order, watching him. As you would be every week whenever he wasn't home. If he could have, he would have dragged you to all his lectures as well, but you managed to talk him out of it. Honestly, you didn't mind this at all, as you really enjoyed observing him teaching hapkido and doing all the cool moves he was so smooth at doing. It was true you would get tired and wooden bench was only so comfortable for you to sit through couple of hours.

During the break, Baekhyun jogged to you with an energetic smile and leaned in to give you a quick peck. “You good over here?” he asked as his team erupted in big laughters, everyone enjoying their break time.

You beamed up at your boyfriend. “Yes, all fine.”

He smiled even wider at that, ruffling your hair as he looked down on the book in your lap. “Is it any good?”

“Well, for sure although I'm learning some disturbing stuff,” you muttered, worry flashing through your eyes that made Baekhyun raise his eyebrows.

“We will finish in 50 minutes and then you can tell me all about it, how is that?” he asked gently, and grabbed your cheeks to observe you closer.

You giggled and he seemed satisfied. “Alright, let's do that.”

He was just leaning in for another kiss when someone cleared their throat muttering a little excuse me, making Baekhyun move away from you. “Jiyoung.”

“Sorry to disturb, but I think it would be better if we stay longer today. For practice, I mean,” she said, her eyes wandering over to you and a bit lower, obviously looking at the baby bump. She snapped her eyes back at Baekhyun's questioning face. “It's better if we start going through basic kicks now, just so the kids can remember each technique correctly and from then build on it.”

You watched Baekhyun's back, but he was relaxed. “The kids are black belts, 4-5 dans in at least, though,” he replied diplomatically, “I don't see the point in going through basic kicks. Techniques should come to them as second nature by now.”

“I still think we should start having longer practices,” she insisted. “So your girlfriend might be a bit uncomfortable sitting here for such a long time.”

Wow, you thought, she was actually dragging you into this somehow. Interesting.

“I don't mind,” you heard yourself say before you could think twice. “So do whatever you deem correct.”

“Not today, no,” Baekhyun decided. “After December we will be good with longer practices if necessary,” he emphasized. “If we don't slack off, we can manage just fine.”

She gave a confident smile. “Alright then. I suppose you won't mind if we start the class now.”

What a bitch, you thought again.

“I won't mind. You may start,” was Baekhyun's curt nod and he turned around to face you, his actions heating your cheeks up as he crouched in front of you and took your hands in his before bringing them up to his lips.

“Alright, master.” And she was gone.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, but the excited glint in your eyes told Baekhyun you loved what he just pulled.

“Prioritizing you.”

You smiled graciously, and leaned in, pecking his lips.

Couple of weeks went by, you following Baekhyun to his practice, while you were found your way back to knitting that you so diligently used to do when you were younger, your mum teaching you as a little girl. Trying hard not to sound annoyed or desperate for any activity, you made sure you were always smiling and at peace in your mind. You promised your boyfriend you would look after yourself and that was what you had been trying to do. You even managed to sell some of the scarfs and gloves you knitted, given it was now nearing the end of December.

You smiled up at Baekhyun who dismissed the class, not waiting until Jiyoung and the students leave. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” he replied, some perspiration on his forehead glistening in the practice room. “Can't wait to have a rest.”

You stood up to your feet slowly, minding your blood pressure, and reached for a handkerchief before grabbing his hand so he wouldn't move away. “Let me,” you murmured as you reached up and tapped the textile gently along his hairline.

His eyes focused down on you, affection and love melting his features into the softest smile. “Thank you.”

“We don't want daddy to catch a cold, right?” you chirped enthusiastically.

Baekhyun quirked an eyebrow at you, never hearing the nickname leave your mouth before. You would always get extremely embarrassed when he called you mummy, so this was a new discovery. “Yeah, otherwise how would daddy protect mummy, hm?”

Just as expected, you grew red in your face and quickly looked around, making sure no one was too near to overhear.

“What? You started,” he laughed quietly before leaning in to kiss your cheek, leaving it with a loud smooch and moisture on your skin. “Mummy.”

Your eyes widened and you laughed along with him before he moved to pack up his stuff. All the students who were now leaving farewelled cheerfully, always enjoying how flustered you would get from the attention, because master Baekhyun's girlfriend is so cute! and of course, he would encourage them, showing you off, which always warmed your heart.

“Not tired?”

You turned to the right to see Jiyoung approaching, a glass bottle in her hand as her high ponytail swung with each step she made. “I'm okay, thank you. Aren't you tired?”

“Nope,” she said, the p sound bopping like a bubble. “Master Baekhyun has been a bit slacking off with the workouts, eh?” she chuckled, nudging Baekhyun who was putting on his jacket with her elbow.

“Well, I can always make it especially hard for you, Jiyoung,” was his confident reply.

Oh my god, he was so hot you actually had to cross your legs while standing.

She smirked. “I would love to finally find out what does this especially hard mean, master.”

Well, you definitely didn't find her confidence hot. If anything, you wanted to warn her not to challenge Baekhyun too much.

“Alright, especially hard it is then,” he concluded just as he zipped up his jacket and took his gym bag, slugging it over his shoulder.

Jiyoung's eyes sparked with excitement, you could see that. It was always there, actually. Coming to the practices with him for two weeks, you kind of learnt to read her. She was a professional, you knew that much. She wasn't openly hitting on your boyfriend, no. It was in these subtle talks that irked you because you couldn't do anything about them, just tolerate and trust Baekhyun. Which, he really not once made you doubt - his trust. He would always prove you his love to you, and you to him. It was so obvious. He only had eyes for you.

Even now, as he stood in front of you, touching your hip gently and sliding his hand to your lower back to lead you out and saying his bye to the disappointed face of his hapkido partner, you knew it.

“Baekhyun,” you said once outside on the half-dead campus as you were making your way to the bus stop, the dark sky not showing any clouds which only meant another freezing night.

“Yes, angel.” He intertwined your fingers and pushed the connected hands into his pocket.

“I was thinking… What if I just went home?”

He stopped walking, looking at you a bit taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I feel a bit useless, you know. But also quite tired from all of this,” you said showing your belly that was sticking out. “So I thought I would visit home.”

“But we have regular check ups at the clinic,” he replied, his eyes wandering over your features. His nose was growing a bit red which you found adorable, which is why you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a little peck on it.

“I know… but if I would miss one appoint-”

“No.”

“Baek-”

“You are not missing an appointment, baby,” he said, this time more sternly as he looked down at you, his hair that was trapped under a red beanie made his soft hair fall into his eyes.

You pressed your lips together, understanding his choice. “So, I would go only for two weeks.”

Something flashed across his eyes, something that you couldn't decipher. “What about me?”

Yes, what about Baekhyun? “You have lots on your plate right now,” you reasoned, squeezing his hand that was trapped in his pocket. “You could study better, and focus more on the practices. And, you could totally go and have a good time with your friends, or even invite them over, hm?”

“You actually think I would let you travel alone? With your blood pressure?”

“C'mon, by KTX it takes an hour and a half and then taxi just twenty minutes out of town.”

You felt like you were contradicting yourself. You, the one who was always trying to save up money was willing to pay a lot just to travel. KTX tickets were already very expensive. Taxis as well. But there was very little public transportation going to your village and you didn't feel like taking it with your big belly.

Baekhyun didn't say anything for a while, just staring at you. “Why this sudden- need?” is what he asked eventually.

“You know I miss mum,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

“I know it's difficult,” he sighed, the action condensing his breath. “But I can't let you go by yourself, no way. Besides,” he added eagerly, “it's Korean new year soon. Can't you wait just a little longer? We both will be going home for that, you know that.”

He was right. It was literally around the corner.

“It's just in two weeks time, hm?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows at you, pleading to say yes. When he saw you contemplating, he mumbled: “I am not letting you go alone, anyway, so you better agree.”

You huffed in disbelief and dragged him towards the bus stop. “Let's go home. I will think about it.”

“Tomorrow we have a double-date with Chen's, did you forget that too?” he said as he let you drag him after you.

“No, I didn't. I would have gone the day after.”

“Well, you wouldn't leave me alone for such a long time, right?”

That made you stop and turn to him just to witness the puppy eyes and a prominent pout that made you smile softly at him as you walked even closer, resting your forehead on his jacket-clad chest. “I hate even the idea of not being with you for two weeks, Baekhyun.”

“Exactly. So just wait until we can go together, hm? Please? I don't want you to go. I can't even sleep without you anymore.”

You chuckled and leaned back, catching his small smile. “Alright. I think.”

He whined your name before he grabbed you by your waist with his free hand and brought your hips closer as he hovered a bit over you. “Alright, I won't go is what you wanted to say,” he muttered before kissing you hungrily. It was such a contrast; outside, the air was freezing, but your hot mouths pressed together, his body glued to yours as he breathed in loudly before tilting his head, asking for access with his eager tongue was hot, burning up. You moaned quietly, just for him to hear and he growled in response, a satisfactory hum leaving his throat while he circled your tongue, sucking on it, making you gasp because you were in public. He kissed you, and kissed you until you were completely breathless, until you were fully convinced that he didn't want you anywhere far from him. Even if it meant he could focus more on his practice, studies and whatever else you just listed. Even if it meant a short time.

He didn't want you away. And that was final.

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #exo au #baekhyun au #exo angst #exo smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop au #kpop scenario #mywritings

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casual-eumetazoa · 3 years ago

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i haven’t written a life update in a while and idk if anyone will read it but hey, typing out stuff like this can be helpful at untangling your thoughts sometimes, so might as well. no shade if you scroll past tho, enjoy the memes and DW posts and happy scrolling!

so. in terms of writing, which i’ve talked about the most on here, i’m more or less in the same place since the last update. i’ve started querying the novel in March, i’m through about 1/5th of my list of literary agents, so far nothing but form rejections from those. i am currently waiting on 4 responses i think, plus waiting on a query response from 3 publishers and 1 response after a full manuscript request from one publisher

the most recent thing that happened is getting a very nice and personal rejections from a publisher, which was the first after ~35 form copy-paste rejections from others. and the explanation was... the book is great (”very well-written and the issue isn’t with quality”) but they are not the best publisher for it. after i asked for querying advice, the editor wrote back an even more lovely email, and basically confirmed my guess: the book is niche, it doesn’t quite fit into any conventional sci-fi category, and therefore most publishers will not touch it because it is “unmarketable”. i knew already that publishing is a business and it is not at all about book quality, but this was perhaps the most honest articulation of it and i am very grateful for that email

the current plan is to keep querying anyway until i run out of agents and publishers... yes the chances are slim to none, but i’ve done all the work already and it would be a shame not to do it. maybe some of those agents or editors will at least get some enjoyment out of reading the manuscript or whatever. i’m just sending out a finished product at this point so might as well, it takes me a couple minutes to send an email

i am also trying to write a different novel (or rather re-writing an old one) but if i’m being honest, it hasn’t been going very well. grad school takes up a lot of my energy and whatever is left i spend on YouTube and other stuff. i am planning to do NaNoWriMo this year and i have all of my outlines and plans at the ready so maybe this will change soon

speaking of YouTube - i am ready to shoot my latest essay but it keeps getting delayed for a variety of reasons. maybe i’ll manage to do it on these weekends but considering that my boyfriend is coming over to the city, yeah, i won’t promise anything. i do very much care about that channel and i have like 5 or 6 ideas in the pipeline, it just takes a lot of effort. i’ve gotten to a point where i actually care about views and it ruined the fun of it a little bit but i’m trying to focus on the process. also, i have sent requests for shout-outs to 2 leftist youtubers who do shout-outs, did not get a reply from either, but who knows.

generally, i’ve been feeling kind of... uneasy and anxious about the creative stuff lately. as i am getting closer to graduating, i have to think about how i’m going to make money once my scholarship runs out. since i do not want (and cannot, actually) jump into phd right away, i’ll need to find some job - and with my chronic illnesses and neurotype and education/skillset, the possibilities are very limited. one thing i know i could do is tutor in biology, probably online, probably to high school and undergraduate students, and it seems like a very good fit for me. if by any chance you are reading this and know someone (including yourself) who needs a biology tutor btw, you are very welcomed to reach out.

anyway, point is, i feel kind of... foolish and childish putting effort into creative stuff when i could start tutoring already and actually make money. like, writing is the most fulfilling thing for me and it is the thing that makes me the happiest, but it is not a job. there is no way i can make stable income off of writing fiction. youtube is close in levels of fulfillment i get out of it, but i have like 60 subscribers right now and it will be ages before i will be able to get any money off of ads or patreon. so why am i spending time and energy on this stuff instead of working?

i know that mindset is exactly what i despise about the modern world but also, from a practical standpoint, i do need to eat and my family cannot support me indefinitely (as much as they would want to). so yeah, keeping a balance between “fuck capitalism, art is precious” and “i have 10 dollars on my bank account” is tricky

other than all that, i am doing pretty well and there is a lot in my life i am very happy with. so complaining feels... ungratefull. my life is kinda hectic though and that also makes it difficult to be creative sometimes. i am, however, a very stubborn aries moon who very rarely drops any projects after they’ve been started. so if creative inspiration won’t keep me going, the desire to Get Thing Done certainly will

#personal #update #d0n't rеblog pls

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cfiesler · 5 years ago

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thoughts on AO3 from a content moderation researcher

A few days ago I tweeted some thoughts about current conversations around content moderation and racism on AO3. I thought I’d reproduce here:

OK I'm going to weigh in on the tagging/content moderation conversation happening right now regarding Archive of Our Own. To be clear, this is me as a content moderation researcher who has also studied the design of AO3, NOT me as a member of the OTW legal committee.

To clarify the issue for folks: Racism is a problem in fandom. In addition to other philosophical and structural things regarding OTW, there have been suggestions for adding required content warnings or other mechanisms to deal with racism in stories posted to the archive.

Here's a description of the content warning system from a paper I published about the design of AO3, in which I used this as an example of designing to mitigate the value tension of inclusivity versus safety:

“Knowing that this tension would exist, and wanting to protect users from being triggered or stumbling across content they did not want to see, AO3 added required warnings for stories. These include graphic violence, major character death, rape, and underage sex. These warnings were chosen based on conventions at the time, what fan fiction writers already tended to warn for when posting stories elsewhere. Warnings are not only required, but are part of a visual display that shows up in search results. One early concern was that requiring these warnings might necessitate spoilers—for example, telling the reader ahead of time that there was a major character death. Therefore, AO3 added an additional warning tag: ‘Choose not to use archive warnings.’ Seeing this tag in search results essentially means ‘read at your own risk.’ Most interviewees found this to be a solution that did a good job at taking into account different kinds of needs."

The idea is certain kinds of objectionable content is allowed to be there as long as it's properly labeled. Content will not be removed for having X, but it can be removed for not being tagged properly for having X. This allows users to not have to see content labeled with X.

My students and I have studied content moderation systems in a number of contexts, including on Reddit and Discord, and I actually think that this system is kind of elegant and other platforms can learn from it. That said, it relies on strong social norms to work.

One of the big problems with content moderation is that not everyone has the same definition of what constitutes a rule violation. Like... folks on a feminist hashtag almost certainly have a different definition of what constitutes "harassment" than on the gg hashtag.

A few years ago we analyzed harassment policies on a bunch of different platforms and usually it's just like "don't harass people" but okay what does that mean? I guarantee you there are people on twitter who think rape threats aren't harassment.

So a nice thing about communities moderating themselves--like on subreddits--is that they can create their own rules and have a shared understanding of what they mean (here’s a paper about rules on Reddit). So you can have a rule about harassment and within your community know what that means.

I've talked for a long time about the strong social norms in fandom and how this has allowed in particular for really effective self regulation around copyright. In fact I wrote about this really recently based on interviews conducted in 2014. HOWEVER -

Generally, I think social norms are not as strong in fandom as they used to be, in part because it's just gotten bigger and there are more people and also some generational differences and we're more spread out. (My PhD advisee) Brianna & I wrote about this for TWC.

So the point here is that without those very strong shared norms, definitions differ - across sub-fandoms, across platforms, across people. Whether that thing we're defining is commercialism, harassment, or racism.

This isn't to say that there *shouldn't* be a required content warning for racism in fics, but I think it's important to be aware how wrought enforcement will be because no matter how it is defined, a subset of fandom will not agree with that definition.

That said, design decisions like this are statements. When AO3 chose the required warnings, it was a statement about what types of content it is important to protect the community from. I would personally support a values-based decision that racism falls into that category.

Design also *influences* values. An example of this was AO3's decision to include the "inspired by" tag which directly signaled (through design) that remixing fics without explicit permission was okay. Another quote from the paper:

“Similarly, Naomi described a policy decision of AO3 that was a deliberate attempt to influence a value. Prior work understanding fandom norms towards re-use of content has shown something of a disconnect, with different standards for different types of work [15,16]. Surprisingly, although fan authors themselves are building on others’ work, some don’t want people to remix their remixes. In Naomi’s original blog post, there is some argument between fans about what AO3 should do about this, with suggestions for providing a mechanism for fan writers to give permission for remixing. Naomi described their ultimate design, and feels that in the time that has followed the creation of AO3, the values of the community have actually shifted to be more accepting of this practice:

‘We had baked in right from the beginning that you could post a work to the archive that was a remix, or sequel, or translation, or a podfic or whatever, based on another work, another fannish work. As long as you gave credit, you didn’t need permission. In fact, we built a system into the archive where it notifies [the original author]. That was because we were coming from a philosophy where what we’re doing is fair use. It’s legal. We are making transformative work. We don’t need permission from the original copyright holder. That’s why fanfic is legitimate. But what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander… So, I think that’s an example, actually, where archive and OTW almost got a little bit ahead of the curve, got a little bit ahead of the broader community’s internal values. That was a deliberate concerted decision on our part.’”

A design change to AO3 that forces consideration of whether there is racism in a story you're posting could have an impact on the overall values of the community by signaling that this consideration is necessary AND that you should be thinking of a community definition of racism.

Also important: content moderation has the potential to be abused. And I know that this happens in fandom, even around something as innocuous as copyright, since I've heard stories of harassment-based DMCA takedown campaigns.

There's a LOT of tension in fandom around public shaming as a norm enforcement mechanism, and I would want to see this feature used as a "gentle reminder" and not a way to drum people out of fandom. (See more about that in this paper.)

That said, I think these reminders are needed. There will be a LOT of "uh I didn't know that was racist" and that requires some education. Which is important but also an additional burden on volunteer moderators who may be grappling with this themselves.

This is more a thread of cautions than solutions, unfortunately. Because before there can be solutions, we need: (1) an answer to a very hard question, which is "what is racism in fanfiction/fandom?" and this answer needs to come from a diverse group of stakeholders, and (2) a solution for enforcement/moderation that both makes sure that folks directly impacted by racism are involved AND that we're not asking for burdensome labor from already marginalized groups.

All of this comes down to: Content moderation is HARD for so many reasons, both on huge platforms and in communities. AO3 is kind of a unique case with its own problems but I am optimistic about solutions because so many people care about the values in fandom.

I’m still thinking about this and welcome others’ thoughts!

#archive of our own #ao3 #OTW #fanfiction #fandom #acafandom #content moderation

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